


Season 1, Episode 5: Dreams of Yesterday

by Peaches and RAmen (Peachy00Keen)



Series: Star Trek: Babel [8]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek Online
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, Andorians, Backstory, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humans, M/M, Medical, Memories, Multi, Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Science, Science Fiction, Slice of Life, Star Trek Politics, Star Trek References, Star Trek: Babel, Tellarites, medical drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24981718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy00Keen/pseuds/Peaches%20and%20RAmen
Summary: Babel and her crew encounter a strange signal drifting through space and find a peculiar probe at the source. Upon bringing the strange beacon onboard the ship, members of the senior staff are called down to inspect it when they all suddenly lose consciousness. The young medical technician, Ensign Byron Dansville, must work with Chief Engineer Naazt to find out what happened without befalling the same fate as their superior officers.
Series: Star Trek: Babel [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623328
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're back!  
> Moving forward, these stories will be broken into scene-by-scene chapters so that readers will have an easier time keeping their place. Older episodes will be edited to fit the same format, starting with the Pilot (which I have the fewest qualms about utterly destroying in the event I catastrophically bork the whole thing).  
> We appreciate all the feedback you readers have given us, and we'd love for you to keep it coming! Formatting suggestions, character commentary, and anything else you'd like to offer us is wonderful. We hope that you enjoy reading Star Trek: Babel as much as we enjoy writing it. We ought to be back to our usual monthly(ish) posting schedule after these two catch-up posts. :)

Jeremy walked down the hall of Deck Twenty-One, brushing the last traces of powder off his pant leg. _Why couldn’t uniform pants be any color besides black? Seriously, it’s the worst color, especially if you’re trying to- Oof!_  
  
“Hey!” shouted an indignant voice. “Do you mind?”  
  
“Oh, hey, David,” Jeremy responded casually as the young man turned around. The ensign’s look of irritation quickly faded to embarrassment.  
  
“Oh! Lieutenant! I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”  
  
“No harm no foul,” Jeremy shrugged. “If you’d turned around and addressed the Captain like that, I imagine it’d be a slightly bigger issue.”  
  
“Why would the Captain be down here in the lower holosuites?” David paused. “Speaking of, why are _you_ down in the lower holosuites?”  
  
Jeremy felt a flash of heat brush the back of his neck. “Shouldn’t you be on the Bridge?” he asked, continuing his course toward the turbolifts. “The shifts changed almost five minutes ago.”  
  
“My flight sim ran later than I expected. I already paged Ensign Jemison to tell her I was going to be a few minutes late. That explains why I was down here, but you still haven’t told me why you were down here.” They stopped in front of the turbolift and waited for its doors to open.  
  
“I was… simulating the terrain of a planet we picked up the other day on our scans.” The two of them stepped into the lift and Jeremy made a point of avoiding David’s gaze. “Bridge,” he told the computer. Silence followed between the two of them as the chamber lurched into motion.  
  
“That doesn’t require a holosuite, and even if it did, there are six of them on Deck Eleven. Why come all the way down to Deck Twenty-One?”  
  
Jeremy picked up on the note of harsh skepticism in the ensign’s voice and turned to look at him. “What I do in my off-duty time isn’t really your business, Ensign.”  
  
“It is if you’re late to your shift and refusing to talk about what you were doing,” he said with a frown. “Unless you’re planning me a surprise party, that sounds pretty sketchy.”  
  
Jeremy stared at David in disbelief. _I mean, he has a point, but geez._ “You’re probably the last person I’d have expected insubordination from…” He hesitated before continuing, “but it’s not a surprise party, and I’m not doing anything unprofessional.”  
  
“Then why hide it?” David asked, his voice back to its usual, slightly inquisitive tone.  
  
“Because…” Jeremy faltered again before grumbling. “Because I’m taking cooking classes,” he muttered, looking away again.  
  
“ _Cooking_ classes?” David echoed in disbelief, clearly stifling a laugh. “Why are you taking cooking classes?”  
  
“See?” Jeremy snapped, feeling hurt, “this is why I go down to Deck Twenty-One. I don’t need to be mocked by other officers every time I indulge my curiosities. It’s bad enough everyone gives me a hard time for ‘playing with rocks’ all the time.”  
  
“Sir, you _do_ devote a lot of time to your field of study,” David added quietly.  
  
“I’m a geologist! What do they expect me to do with my time? I pick up a hobby and I get grief for practicing that, too.”  
  
“I don’t think anyone thinks any less of you for it. They probably just find it curious. I mean, nobody really cooks anymore now that replicators are so common.”  
  
Jeremy turned back to David with a pleading expression. “That’s why I find it so interesting! Everyone talks about how ‘replicators don’t do _blank_ justice,’ so I want to know what _blank_ is supposed to taste like!”  
  
“Well,” David said with a small shrug, “for what it’s worth, I think it’s an admirable hobby. I just think it’s kind of strange that you’re so secretive about it.”  
  
The turbolift doors opened onto the Bridge, and Captain Murali stood and turned to face them. “Lieutenant, Ensign, you’re late.” The two shared a glance of understanding before apologizing and proceeding to their stations.


	2. Chapter 2

Ensigns Jemison and Faust left the bridge as Jeremy and David took their stations. Raj held his grimace until he was confident the two were burying themselves in their work, and returned to reviewing the most recent sensor reports on his PADD. The bridge had been quiet so far, but that was no excuse for tardiness. _Babel_ was currently cruising through a small nebula at Warp Two, giving them ample time for a detailed survey of the region. With the immediate concerns of the Strux quelled with the revelation of the Antithenai and their subsequent withdrawal into hiding, they finally had time to return to their exploratory mission. After all, that was why they were officially here at the far reaches of known space.

The particular region of space they found themselves in now was densely packed with stellar phenomena, which in addition to presenting exciting opportunities to the science teams, also pushed the limits of what standard Starfleet sensor arrays could read. _Babel_ , however, was no standard Starfleet vessel, and the last week had finally given Raj and his crew the opportunity to prove it. The distinct advantage of the Nebula class was the interchangeable mission pod, sitting aft of the saucer section, mounted to the top of the secondary hull. Depending on the need, a ship of _Babel’s_ class could be converted to a front line warship, colony deployment vessel, supply ship, or long-range explorer with less than a month of refit time in a Starbase. The mission pod _Babel_ had been equipped with was fitted with a next-generation sensor array, capable of reaching distances nearly three times that of a Galaxy-class vessel, with a higher resolution, wider band range and... something about particle detection? Commander O’Malley had gone on for at least thirty minutes about the array when she’d first come aboard. Her enthusiasm made Raj realize that he wasn’t nearly qualified enough to fully appreciate the utility of the sensor array. The short of it was that his team had everything they needed to learn more about this region than anyone had on record, and hopefully to make some serious advancements in stellar cartography and astrophysics with the results.

His attempt to catch up on years of neglecting the scientific nature of his job was interrupted when Renetta Benson, the young Ensign currently manning the Ops station, turned around in her chair.

“Captain, I’m picking up some strange emissions up ahead. There seems to be an object moving at near-light speed transmitting some sort of signal.”

Raj set the PADD down with interest. “A communication signal?”

The young woman frowned. “I can’t say yet, sir. It’s certainly not a hail as we know it, but that doesn’t mean it _isn’t_ trying to communicate. At a really rough guess, I’d say it’s some sort of probe.”

He nodded. “If someone’s sending a probe into deep space, the least we can do is have the courtesy to say hello. Mister Brahms, alter our heading and bring us out of warp near the probe. I don’t want to interfere with it, but if it’s sending out a signal, I think it’s safe to assume the owners won’t mind us figuring out what it is.”

“Aye sir,” David replied from the helm, already laying in the new coordinates. The ship turned gracefully to starboard and continued at its current pace.

“Ensign, how long until we’re within range of the probe?”

“At our current speed, about three hours, Captain,” the young man said casually. “We’re only traveling at Warp Two, though. If you want, I can have us there in twenty minutes without any strain to the engines.”

There wasn’t any real need to hurry, but Raj was curious and more importantly, he was bored. Trying not to let his impatience show, he nodded back to the helmsman.

“Make it so.”

Satisfied, Raj turned to confer with his First Officer, only to remember that she wasn’t present at the moment. In fact, almost none of his senior staff were present since this was originally supposed to be Lieutenant Barnes’ shift at the conn. She had approached Raj just hours before the shift began asking to move her shift to accommodate something she was doing with Commander O’Malley, leaving him alone on a dull watch with nearly nothing to do except read sensor logs.

 _Well, if the only thing to do is read over the results of a nebula composition, I can at least do it with Tchaikovsky in the background,_ he thought as he rose from his chair. His eyes swept over the bridge and settled on the only Lieutenant present.

“I’ll be in my ready room until we reach the probe. Mister Caldwell, you have the conn.”

The Lieutenant’s eyes nearly popped from his head in surprise. “Me, sir?”

Raj smiled with grim amusement. “Unless you have a relative on the bridge I don’t know about, Lieutenant, yes. Try not to break anything.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Captain’s Log, Stardate 48754.8: We’ve encountered an object we believe to be an alien probe traveling at near-warp speeds in what our neighbors the Strux have christened the ‘Little Giant’, a micro-nebula just outside the border of their space. We dropped out of warp one hour ago, at which point we determined that the signal we detected from the probe was actually the result of a plasma leak warping the probe’s normal emissions. My Chief Engineer tells me that without any action on our part, the damage the probe has taken will cause it to break apart within a few days, so I’ve taken the liberty of having it brought aboard for repair and analysis by his team.  
  
In addition to the analysis of the damaged probe, I’ve also received the troubling news that my First Officer is in sickbay, recovering from injuries sustained during a sparring match with my Chief of Security. Both assure me that they are fit for duty, and Doctor Dupont has cleared the Commander for anything that doesn’t require strenuous exercise, and unless there are any changes in Shannon’s condition, I’m inclined to bring both of them with me to inspect the probe when Lieutenant Naazt’s team has stabilized it and given the all-clear._  
  
Raj finished recording the log just in time for the door chime to sound, and at his command, Lieutenant Commander O’Malley entered the ready room.  
  
“Commander, it’s good to see you up and moving. Please, take a seat.”  
  
“I apologize for the delay, sir,” she said, placing her hand on the back of the chair opposite him and lowering herself gingerly into it. “Doctor Dupont was in no hurry to let me leave.”  
  
“The doctor can be rather possessive when it comes to her patients.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Shannon, would you mind telling me exactly what happened?”  
  
“Well,” she began uncomfortably, “as I’m sure you have found out at this point, the two of us were down on Deck Eleven, sparring in the gym.”  
  
“From the medical report, it sounds like a bit more than simple sparring,” he replied. “Lieutenant Barnes is probably the most talented fighter onboard. No offense, Commander, but I doubt you would give her enough trouble that she’d make the type of mistake that would lead to your injuries.”  
  
Shannon furrowed her brow. “Are you implying that her actions were deliberate?”  
  
“Not necessarily. Did she seem distracted by something?”  
  
“Honestly,” she began, rubbing at her head, “it’s hard to say. I asked her about her life outside of her personnel file and she seemed reluctant to talk about it. I think the last thing I asked her was something about the Academy. Her coursework, I think.” Shannon closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Honestly, my memory is a little fuzzy. I apparently hit the ground pretty hard.”  
  
“Maybe it was a sore subject. To be frank, her personnel file is... lacking in information. Prior to her appearing at Starfleet Academy, her file is a name, birth date, and place of origin. For all we know, something happened at the Academy or prior to her joining Starfleet that triggered an especially emotional reaction. I remember a few encounters at the Academy myself that might have me distracted, especially if I was already in a stressful situation.”  
  
“What makes you think she was stressed?” Shannon asked.  
  
“You don’t know? I suppose that makes sense, given your position.” Raj turned to his monitor and queried the ship’s computer for Jessica’s personnel file. “Lieutenant Barnes served most of her career so far on the _Magellan_ , a Galaxy-class vessel launched in sixty-six. She worked her way up to the position of Chief of Security and was recommended highly for the position of First Officer of the _Intrepid_. Instead, she was reassigned here, to the same position she previously held, on a smaller ship. Some might go so far as to call it a demotion. And who does she find on her new posting in the First Officer position she so desperately wanted?”  
  
Shannon looked almost embarrassed. “I guess that explains why she’s been so keen on avoiding small talk with me. Given how I ended up in the First Officer position, I suppose I ought to be glad she’s the professional type. She has no shortage of reasons to want to lay me out given the opportunity. Still, I don’t think what happened at the gym was the product of ill-will.” The redhead shook her head carefully, “I may not know her well, but she doesn’t seem the type to take advantage of that kind of situation.”  
  
“She _is_ a Starfleet officer, Commander. I would certainly hope she’d be above settling any disputes in that sort of manner. I just wanted to hear your thoughts and make sure there wasn’t anything going on I need to know about.” His face softened, and he relaxed in his chair. “I know we haven’t been on this mission together very long, but we do all have to live with each other. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like you to try to build a rapport with Jessica, if she’s willing. See if you can help her get more comfortable aboard _Babel_. She might have had her career path held up by Admiral Patterson’s meddling, but that doesn’t mean she has to be miserable here.”  
  
“I certainly am trying, sir. Our last interaction was in Sickbay. I asked her for another opportunity to get to know one another, and her response was that she’d try to make time.” The First Officer shook her head. “She seemed willing enough to rearrange her schedule when I asked her to spar with me. I think I may need to give her a little time before I ask her again. Until then, I may have to rely on Lieutenant Caldwell to break the ice.”  
  
Raj’s brows inched slightly closer to one another as he wondered what the geologist had to do with anything. Whatever the case, it likely wasn’t his place to probe and more a slip of the tongue on his XO’s part.  
  
“That wasn’t an order, Commander, just a suggestion. I trust you have the matter in capable hands.” Raj got to his feet and walked over to his window to stare out at the stars. “Now, I suspect we’ll have some more work to do when Naazt is ready for us in a couple of hours. Until then, you’re all still technically off-shift.”  
  
“Then, if it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to head back to my quarters and lie down for a while.” She stood up slowly, once again bringing her hand up to support her head. “The Doctor said that I’d be sore for a day or so, and I’m definitely feeling it.”  
  
Raj nodded. “I’ll see you in the cargo bay when the engineers are ready, then. You’re dismissed, Commander.”


	4. Chapter 4

Shannon exited the ready room and crossed the Bridge, weaving her way back to her quarters and doing her best to avoid eye contact that might spark further conversation. She let her mind wander as she entered the turbolift and leaned back against the wall, if only to keep it distracted from the pain.  
  
 _How hard must it be, losing a parent at a young age? What does that do to a person? Loss is difficult to overcome as an adult, but as a kid, how do you even process that? Losing_ both _parents… I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like. I guess it speaks some about why she’s such a driven and independent person. I wonder if a family member raised her. No, she said she had no blood relations left. A friend of the family, maybe? Surely, there had to have been someone._  
  
The turbolift doors slid open and she stepped out onto Deck 8. As she meandered down the hall, her head began to pound again, driving her thoughts back deep inside, though her eyes remained fixed on her door in the distance.  
  
 _I might not have decided to join Starfleet if it hadn’t been for my dad. Both of my parents played a huge role in driving me toward a career in science, though I don’t think any of us expected me to end up as the XO of a science vessel. If it had been up to my dad, I would have been a starship designer like he was. Despite the tensions caused by me choosing to go my own way, I think it all worked out pretty well. He’s been nothing but proud of me since the Academy, though I do miss home. The holodeck program is nice, but it’s not quite the same._  
  
Finally, Shannon came to a halt in front of her quarters. She punched in the code and the doors parted with the familiar, gentle whisper. Once they’d closed behind her, she let out a long groan.  
  
“Computer, dim the lights.”  
  
The piercing brightness that had been biting at her temples subsided and the pain gradually lessened. In a series of fluid motions, she shed her workout attire and stepped into the warm water of the shower. Immediately, the tension in her upper back and neck released. Her knee, however, which until now, she’d forgotten had been dislocated, began to throb with excruciating intensity. Shannon groaned again, stifling an angry sob.  
  
 _She wouldn’t do this intentionally, right? No, don’t be stupid. She wouldn’t have made it this far in Starfleet, let alone be assigned twice as the Chief of Security if she was such a liability. It was an accident. Still, if this was what she could do accidentally while presumably holding back, facing her in a rage would be lethal. Hell, she could probably spar with Thriss and hold her own without a problem._  
  
Unable to stand the pain in her recently-reset knee any longer, Shannon turned the water to cold for a moment and stood there on the verge of shivering before shutting the shower off and stepping out into the bathroom. Through the open doorways, she could see the painting she’d had specially brought in to decorate her quarters. It was of the White Cliffs of Dover. Though she was viewing the piece side-on and the artist’s interpretation was a rather abstract one, it was enough to bring back the pleasant memories of her family’s trips to their cabin at the top of the bluff. Sometimes, she wished there was a way to bottle the smell of the sea and keep it near her bed for the days when she felt particularly homesick. It wouldn’t solve anything, she knew that much, but at least it might make Earth not feel quite so far away.  
  
With her hair wrapped up in a towel and a robe draped loosely around her, she shuffled into her bedroom. Somehow, the low light was still too much for her, and she had the computer all but turn them off. As she sat down on the emerald green tapestry at the foot of her bed and glanced at the chimes sitting in the windowsill at its head, she felt a pang of nostalgia.  
  
“Computer, play me the sounds of crickets singing at night.”  
  
 _“Please identify a species,”_ the computer responded in a voice Shannon swore was loud enough to shatter the windows.  
  
“Ugh, European mole crickets, I guess. And not so loud.”  
  
The computer made an affirmative chirp and the sound of crickets began to play softly over the speakers in her quarters. _There’s an odd bit of trivia from way back when I never thought I’d use again._  
  
“Computer, add the sound of waves in the background.”  
  
Barely audible, as if far in the distance, the sound of waves crashing complimented the crickets’ chorus. Shannon sighed and lay back on her bed. If she closed her eyes, the ship melted away. No hum of the engines, no strange deep space probes, no lingering aches or pains from her injuries. She reached up a hand and gently nudged her chimes. _Just like home._  
  
“Computer, save sound settings.”  
  
 _“Please assign a program name.”_  
  
She smiled. “Home.”


	5. Chapter 5

Naazt looked over the tricorder readings for the third time before grunting in satisfaction.  
  
“All clear!” he shouted, and then as if to prove his sincerity, made a great show of hitting the release on the helmet of his hazard suit. The seal broke with a quick hiss, and he inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with fresh air and expunge the stale recycled oxygen that he’d been stuck with for the past two hours.  
  
The rest of his team, similarly removing their own uncomfortable helmets, gathered to form a semicircle around the object resting in the center of Cargo Bay Four, which was otherwise empty on the Captain’s standing order, reserved specifically for cases like this, where space might be needed to house objects or cargo of interest during research or diplomatic missions here on the frontier. For a moment, no one spoke, but the brief pause was broken when a tall Andorian woman stepped forward.  
  
“So... what is it?” the ensign asked.  
  
The probe, assuming that’s what it truly was, was a cylindrical object roughly seven meters long and one meter in diameter. The outer casing was a bronze-colored metallic substance, but so far their tricorders couldn’t tell what exactly it was made of, let alone what was inside. The engine, where they’d found and repaired the plasma leak, was almost a completely separate device, as if it had been slapped on by someone else entirely.  
  
“That, Thriss,” Naazt responded, “is what we’re here to find out.”  
  
With the plasma leak repaired, the probe could be released to resume its mission. The trouble was, nobody knew what that mission was, and by the time they’d been able to bring it aboard, the damage had put the probe in what appeared to be a power-saving state. Without finding a way to activate it or access its databanks, there was no guarantee it would be able to resume its mission. As far as the Tellarite Chief Engineer was concerned, the most important objective was to learn what the damned thing was and how it worked, whether it was functional when he was done or not.  
  
“Ensign, I want you to find us an access panel. Let’s see if we can crack this thing open and find an interface or control system.”  
  
“Aye, Chief,” Thriss replied, and took her toolkit over to the probe to begin working. As soon as she acknowledged him, Naazt turned to give more directions.  
  
“Johnson, I want you to set up a damping field around the probe. If this thing decides to start transmitting, I want it contained to this cargo bay until we know what it’s doing isn’t harmful.”  
  
The lieutenant nodded and started issuing orders to a pair of crewmen, who took off in opposite directions. With the field in effect and their relative safety ensured, the team worked tirelessly to gain access to the probe. When there proved to be no discernable access panel, they tried scanning the entire probe at the highest resolution their tricorders would allow, but couldn’t manage to penetrate the probe’s hull.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir,” Thriss said, her shoulders slumped and sweat running down her face. “Other than the propulsion system, the whole thing seems to be completely closed off to us, and we can’t find any way inside the main casing.”  
  
“And you couldn’t cut your way inside?” Naazt asked. He tapped his hoof on the cargo bay floor, frustrated at the lack of progress they’d made.  
  
“No sir. We tried the laser cutters, then moved up to phasers. Even on maximum, we didn’t do so much as scorch the outer casing.”  
  
Naazt sniffed irritably and marched over to the probe. Sitting there on the cargo bay floor exactly where it had been when brought aboard, it almost seemed to be mocking him. He made a fist and slammed it against the hull casing, which replied with a gentle metallic ring. “What the hell is this thing made of?”  
  
“If I knew that, Chief, I would’ve opened it by now!” Thriss snapped, recoiling almost as soon as the words left her mouth. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean-”  
  
“Relax, Ensign. I’m not one to take offense unless it was meant to be given.” He sighed, and tapped his combadge. “Naazt to Captain Murali.”  
 _  
“Murali here, Chief. Good news?”_  
  
He grimaced. “I’m afraid not, Captain. We can’t even get into the thing. I figured you might at least want to come down here and see it for yourself.”  
  
 _“Understood. I’ll be down shortly. Send for Commander O’Malley and Lieutenant Barnes, as well. Maybe the two of them can put their minds together and find something you didn’t.”_  
  
“I’ll send for them. Naazt out.” He shared a bewildered look with Thriss, who looked as confused as he felt. “The Commander... and Lieutenant Barnes? They don’t have any background in engineering, do they?”  
  
Thriss shook her head. “Not to my knowledge, sir.”  
  
He let out another frustrated sigh. “Why does it feel like the Captain is making a joke only he understands?”  
  
***  
  
Jessica entered the turbolift in half a daze, only to be startled awake when she realized it was currently occupied.  
  
“Lieutenant, it’s good to see you,” the red-haired First Officer said as Jessica stepped through the door and into the lift. _Oh, no. Why did I have to end up in the turbolift with you? I guess I can’t back out now, can I?_  
  
“Uh, hi, Commander,” she managed, her eyes fixed solidly on her own feet.  
  
The doors slid quietly closed, sealing the two women into the lift together with no way out until it had reached its destination. “Where are you headed?” Shannon asked casually, though Jessica could feel the XO’s probing gaze sweeping her posture and expression. What was she looking for?  
  
"The Captain asked me to come down to Cargo Bay Four to take a look at the probe. It sounds like Naazt is having some trouble with it."  
  
"Naazt? Admitting he's having trouble with something?" Shannon chuckled. "That's a first. Deck Fourteen." The computer chimed an acknowledgment and the lift began its descent.  
  
Silence filled the small space after the computer's chirp. The gentle hum of the lift's descent did nothing to soothe the nerves of the two officers or the tension building between them. Finally, Shannon spoke up.  
  
"Jess, we need to talk."  
  
 _Oh great, here we go._ Jessica took a calming breath and looked up to face the Commander's piercing hazel eyes.  
  
"Commander, I'm really sorry about our sparring match. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you, or cause you any trouble."  
  
“ _I_ know that and _I_ believe that, but I’m not the only one aboard this ship,” Shannon said as she shifted and leaned back against the turbolift wall, crossing one ankle over the other and folding her arms across her chest. The pose said “casual,” but everything else about her demeanor meant business. The Commander continued. “What happened? Beyond the medical reports, beyond the progression of your physical actions. I know we left our ranks at the door, but what made you lose focus so thoroughly that you nearly caused serious medical harm to one of your commanding officers?”  
  
Jessica wanted to scream. _What happened? What happened, Commander, is that you stole the job that should have been mine, a job you have no business holding, and then had the nerve to push me on it and pry out an answer while putting up the weakest guard I’ve ever seen! It’s not my fault you practically invited me to hit you. You can’t ask me to spar and not even put up a fight!_ She bit her tongue before she could be tempted to give Shannon a piece of her mind, and settled on something more diplomatic.  
  
“I... was distracted. I’ve had a really long week, and I let my mind wander places it shouldn’t. I mistimed my attack and hit you harder than I should have.”  
  
The XO slightly raised one eyebrow. The change in her expression was nearly imperceptible, but it conveyed plenty. She believed Jessica, but only to an extent. It didn’t take much to realize that someone like Jessica, who exercised precision and control over every area of her life, wouldn’t simply slip up like that because she was distracted. Shannon’s hazel eyes narrowed assessingly before she finally broke the scrutinizing silence.  
  
“I just don’t believe that. I know you, maybe not as well as some others do, but I know you well enough to know that you don’t slip up like that.” The redhead straightened her posture, assuming an air of authority she still was clearly not entirely comfortable wearing. “I don’t believe you necessarily had malicious intent, but I also know you’re not telling me the whole truth.”  
  
“I-”  
  
The turbolift came to a halt and opened into the hallway across from the cargo bay, miraculously saving her from a conversation she had no desire to start. Standing outside the cargo bay entrance was the Captain, looking at the two of them expectantly.  
  
“I think we’ll have to save this for another time, Commander,” Jessica said, her voice barely keeping steady. “Let’s go see what the Chief has for us.”  
  
Before Shannon could respond, she took off down the hallway and followed the Captain through the door to the cargo bay. With their work on the probe on hold, the engineering teams had returned to their daily duties, save for their Chief Engineer, who was pacing around the probe, as if at any moment he would round a corner and discover something he’d missed the last time around.  
  
“Chief, what do you have for us?” the Captain asked, beginning to wander around the probe himself.  
  
“If I knew that, Captain, I would have told you already,” the Tellarite snapped. He pounded a fist on the outer casing and looked expectantly at the trio of command officers. “Whatever this is, it’s made us as blind as a Tellar cave worm.”  
  
Jessica was puzzled. It certainly looked like a long-range probe, with a cylindrical casing and a rear-mounted engine, but other than that, she was ignorant. As a security officer, her expertise on scientific instruments more or less ended with a basic sensor readout.  
  
The Commander spoke up. “Why is it glowing?”  
  
Everyone stopped and turned toward Shannon. She looked back at them with a puzzled expression.  
  
“Glowing?” Naazt asked.  
  
“You don’t see it?”  
  
At first, Jessica shook her head, but then she too began to see a faint pulsing emanate from the probe’s casing. It was orange, or yellow, or... no, it was shifting colors with every pulse.  
  
“I see it too,” she added and was relieved when Raj nodded along with her. Naazt, however, was not similarly enraptured, and from the look of it, was not amused either.  
  
“What are the three of you talking about? There’s nothing there. Nothing I can see, and nothing the tricorder can...” He trailed off as the tricorder in his hand started to register a new source of energy. The three Human officers, however, had their eyes fixed on the probe, as the pulsing grew stronger and brighter, until they could see nothing other than the flashing colors. From red to orange, then further across the visual spectrum, they swirled, and Jessica began to feel dizzy. She staggered backward and felt something rush up to hit her head. Then all went black.


	6. Chapter 6

Clara drew in a series of deep, rhythmic breaths as she and her small medical crew hurried down the hallway. Ensign Dansville was right beside her, and three other members of her staff followed close behind them.

“Do we know if it’s some sort of contaminant carried in on the probe?” The young ensign asked.

“You heard the call,” Clara responded, sounding slightly winded. “All we know is everyone who was there to examine the probe suddenly fell unconscious after mentions of colored lights.”

“Maybe there was something that causes hallucinations as a side-effect,” he proposed as the team rounded a corner.

“ _Mon dieu_ ,” the doctor groaned under her breath. “Your guess is as good as mine, Byron. We’ll find out in a minute.”

The team of five rounded the final corner before slowing to a fast walk several meters in front of the cargo bay doors. The understated entrance parted and revealed the spacious bay on the other side where Chief Naazt stood impatiently over the awkwardly-splayed bodies of his unconscious crewmembers and commanding officers.

Clara turned to the three medical staff members behind her and instructed them to take readings of the surrounding bay before turning to Ensign Dansville. “Byron, come with me.”

The group disbanded as the three blue-uniformed medics pulled out tricorders and spread out across the room. Clara and Ensign Dansville, meanwhile, made their way toward Naazt and the unconscious officers.

“Chief,” Clara said nodding first to the Tellarite and then to the bodies. “What happened?”

“I’m an engineer, not a doctor. I don’t know what happened to them. We were standing around the probe when they started talking about some sort of glowing field. I couldn’t see it, but then it started doing something, and they all collapsed.”

The doctor regarded the Chief Engineer flatly. _For someone who is always so direct, he manages to be incredibly vague._ “Well, if that’s all the information you have for me, I will ask you to step aside and let me get to work.” She took a step toward the fallen crew before turning to face the ensign behind her. “Byron, go stand by the door and make sure no one comes or goes. Until we know what caused this strange episode, this room is under quarantine, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded firmly, though his expression seemed far less certain than his voice.

“What’s the problem?” She asked, her expression settling into a passive scowl.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’re making that face again.”

“I just…” he let out a short, clipped sigh. “If we don’t know what’s wrong, shouldn’t we at least be wearing respirators or something? What if it’s another airborne contaminant like what happened at the Starbase?”

“The odds are very low, Ensign.” She retraced her steps and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, Byron, but please, go guard the door.”

The young man sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara watched him turn and walk off before heading back toward the probe, taking her tricorder from the holster on her hip as she did. _Always concerned with the “what ifs” and the “buts” he is. I don’t doubt he will make a fine doctor someday, but for the time being, I wish he would learn when it’s appropriate to ask certain questions._ The doctor crouched down beside the nearest body and began scanning. It was the Chief of Security, Lieutenant Jessica Barnes. _That boy would stop someone in the middle of a cardiac emergency to ask if they were certain that a thrombolytic was the right choice._

The chatter in the doctor’s mind went silent as the results of the medical tricorder scan began popping up on the screen. She furrowed her elegantly-graying brow. “That’s strange.”

“Of course it’s strange,” the Tellarite grunted. “The senior staff doesn’t make a habit of coming to the cargo bay for a nap!”

“That’s just it,” she said as she moved on to the First Officer, straightening out the woman’s leg from the unnatural angle in which it had landed. “Their vital signs are all stable, but from what I can tell, their brain activity is incredibly active.” The tricorder displayed the same readings as it had for the Chief of Security. Still not believing what she was seeing, Clara shuffled over to the Captain and made another sweep before looking up, bewildered.

“Chief, as far as I can see, you’re right. They’re asleep, and if their brain activity is as standard as everything else I’ve picked up, they’re dreaming.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s certainly strange, but that seems to be what’s happening.” Clara got to her feet and carefully stepped around the sleeping officers to get closer to the probe.

“So, what?” Naazt protested, gesturing to the unconscious senior staff. “Am I supposed to just let them sleep here in the middle of my cargo bay?”

“As long as our sweep of the room doesn’t uncover any unusual readings that might pose a threat to the ship at large, we’ll take them back to Sickbay and quarantine the area until we find the source of the problem.” She flipped open her tricorder again and began scanning the inanimate probe.

Naazt grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before folding his arms indignantly across his chest and continuing to watch in silence from where he stood. Meanwhile, Clara began a slow circle of the strange device. As far as the tricorder could determine, the probe was inert. No electrical impulses, no signs of biological life, and no traces of reactive elements. She closed the scanner and holstered it again, letting her hand rest on her hip just above the pouch.

“Nothing,” she stated simply. “No power readings, no biological traces. Nothing.”

Just as she began to turn back to face the door where Ensign Dansville stood, Clara thought she saw a flicker of light. Her attention snapped back to the probe as she scrambled for her tricorder and threw it open again.

“What?” Naazt asked, attempting to sound disinterested.

“It flashed,” Clara responded frantically. “I saw it, just for a second. A flicker of green light.”

“Hmph. I didn’t see anything.”

The doctor was silent for several seconds as she resumed her analytical orbit around the probe. Suddenly, she halted and honed the tricorder in on a specific spot. “There! It did it again. I don’t see anything on the surface that could have created the flash, but I know I saw it.” She stepped closer and peered at the smooth face of the strange device. There was no sign of any light source. _Maybe it’s under the outer shell somehow._ She glanced at the tricorder. Faint energy readings blipped on the display, barely standing out from the background noise.

While her attention was on the tricorder readout, the cargo bay in her periphery began to shift colors. Deep blue overtones faded to emerald greens, gradually growing in intensity until the colors filled her vision. She could feel the tricorder in her hand, though she could no longer see it, and in the split second it took her to realize the loss of feeling in her hands, the world went black.

***

When she came to, Clara found herself lying on the ground. She heard voices shouting in the distance, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. _This doesn’t feel right_ , she thought to herself. _Where am I?_

She pushed herself to her feet and took note of her surroundings. She was in an alley, somewhere, and not one in a good part of town, whatever “town” she was in. Large buildings towered overhead, and the steady din of city noise buzzed in her ear as her eyes acclimated to the shadows.

“Hands up!” a female voice shouted from nearby. Clara turned instinctively raising her hands before realizing that the voice wasn’t speaking to her. Across the alley, a young Saurian was standing with his hands raised in the middle of a group of three humans. Their leader, holding an old-style phaser pistol at the Saurian, was a young woman, with jet-black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Clara blinked, focusing on the woman’s face. _I know her from somewhere._ When the woman shouted again, forcing the Saurian down to his knees, she knew for sure who it was.

_Jessica? What are you doing?_


	7. Chapter 7

“A medical emergency in the cargo bay?” David asked incredulously.  
  
“That’s right,” Lieutenant Caldwell replied. “Apparently the Captain, Commander O’Malley, and Lieutenant Barnes are all unconscious after something happened with the probe.”  
  
“All of them? Who does that leave in command?”  
  
The lieutenant seemed to hesitate at the question. “Technically? Chief Naazt is the ranking officer. When I asked him about it, he said ‘I’m the Chief Engineer, and I have an engineering problem. Find someone else.’ I’m afraid that leaves you with me.”  
  
“Very inspiring words, sir,” David replied before he could hold his words in. From the look on Lieutenant Caldwell’s face, the line went over about as well as he’d feared.  
  
“This situation is hardly ideal for either of us,” Jeremy said, “but until someone revives any of our commanding officers, it’s what we’ve got to work with.” He glanced at the Captain’s Chair uncertainly for a moment before taking a seat, shifting as if trying to make himself comfortable, but the stiffness of his posture made it clear that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Giving up on comfort, Lieutenant Caldwell tapped his combadge.  
  
“Caldwell to Benson, we need you on the bridge.”  
 _  
“On my way.”_  
  
David felt his heart skip a beat. It was always nice to see Renetta during a shift, as distracting as it could occasionally be, but it wouldn’t be nice for long if his new commanding officer decided to put him in his place by chewing him out in front of his girlfriend.  
  
“Is everything okay, Ensign?”  
  
David’s head snapped up and back to full attention at the lieutenant’s prodding question. Caldwell was looking at him with one knowing eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face.  
  
“Yes sir. Sorry, sir.” He resigned himself to a boring shift of paying attention to every excruciating detail of his work in order to keep his focus.  
  
A couple of tense minutes later, the turbolift door hissed open and Renetta stepped onto the bridge.  
  
“You wanted to see me Jer--” She stopped herself mid-sentence as her sweep of the room brought her attention to the Captain’s Chair. “Uh, you wanted to see me, _sir_?”  
  
“Ensign, I need you at Ops.”  
  
“Where’s the Captain?” she asked, walking to her station.  
  
“Unconscious,” he said as she sat down, “as are Commander O’Malley and Lieutenant Barnes.”  
  
“Unconscious?” Renetta blurted, whirling around in her seat. “Are they okay? Should we be concerned?”  
  
“All we know is that they’re unconscious. If there was something we needed to be concerned about, I’m sure they’d tell us.”  
  
Renetta seemed content with that explanation, at least for the time being, and she turned slowly back to her station. Lieutenant Caldwell adjusted himself in the seat again before settling on a rigid posture and a white-knuckle grip on the armrests.  
  
David turned and shared a smile with Renetta, as well as a nervous glance back toward Jeremy. Not long after, he heard a faint beeping sound from Renetta’s station.  
  
“Sir,” she said, sounding perplexed, “I’m detecting some subspace fluctuations four thousand kilometers off our starboard nacelle.”  
  
Jeremy turned to look, noticeably holding himself in place as he started to get to his feet. “Uh. What does it look like?”  
  
“It looks like a distortion, sir. I’m not trying to be crass, that’s--” She stopped mid-sentence and leaned in toward her screen. “Wait, it looks like it’s shifting. The sensor readings are all over the place. Whatever it is, it’s massive and it’s getting worse.”  
  
“On screen,” Jeremy said. The words seemed to catch him off-guard as he turned to face the front viewer.  
  
Aided by the built-in computer visualization programs that highlighted ambient radiation, subspace anomalies, and other effects normally invisible to the naked eye, the viewer showed a spherical mass of blue and grey against the black of space.  
  
Jeremy stared at the orb for a moment, his expression telegraphing every thought as he tried to process the sight in front of him. “Benson, what am I looking at? A distortion that’s getting worse, I know that but what’s getting worse?”  
  
At that moment, the ship shuddered and began to veer gradually clockwise. “Ensign, what’s-- status report!”  
  
“The anomaly shifted toward the high end of the spectrum before emitting some kind of blast,” Renetta reported frantically. “Whatever triggered the shift also seems to have triggered some kind of initial graviton pulse. The readings from -- I think it’s a wormhole of some kind -- are steadily climbing. It’s pulling us in!”  
  
David watched as the events on the bridge unfolded, waiting for the inevitable order from the acting captain to get them the hell out of there. Lieutenant Caldwell, however, said nothing. He seemed to be lost in panicked thought as the blood drained from his face. Out the front viewer, their view of the space surrounding _Babel_ continued to rotate slowly.  
  
“Sir?” Renetta prodded.  
  
David didn’t wait for the lieutenant to come to his senses. Hands flying across the controls, he threw _Babel_ into a dive, rolling clockwise to accelerate away from the distortion. Proximity alarms continued to trigger as whatever anomaly they were dealing with began to tail them.  
  
“I’m taking us out, but it’s following us,” he said, focused entirely on the flight controls.  
  
“Ensign Brahms,” Lieutenant Caldwell barked, finally coming to from his startled daze, “can we go to warp?”  
  
“Already on it!” he shouted in reply. One command later, the ship lurched forward and left the strange distortion behind. The relief on the bridge was palpable until David took a second look at the indicators on his screen.  
  
“We have Warp Two, but not for long. Something’s interfering with the warp field. Unless we figure out what, we’ll lose the warp bubble in-”  
  
The ship shook violently and the starlines on the viewer coalesced into individual points.  
  
“-about now, I guess,” David finished.  
  
“The source of the interference, according to my sensor readings, is somewhere on the ship.” Renetta turned around at her station. “If I had to guess, I’d bet it was that probe we brought onboard.”  
  
“That seems believable,” Jeremy said, not holding himself to the seat this time when the urge to stand came over him. He walked back to Renetta’s station and looked over the readings. “Where did it go?”  
  
“What?” Renetta whirled back to her display.  
  
“The anomaly. Is it following us?” Lieutenant Caldwell pointed to the screen. “The external readings look like they’re leveling out.”  
  
“Not at the moment,” she said. “At least for the moment, we’re safe.”  
  
David checked the readings at his own station and grimaced. “We’re also stranded. Until we stop whatever the probe is doing, we aren’t going anywhere.”


	8. Chapter 8

The sudden, unmistakable thud of a crumpling body tore Byron’s attention away from watching the work of the other med techs as they scanned the cargo bay. His eyes followed the sound to its source. Along with the unconscious forms of the senior staff, Doctor Dupont’s body now lay in a contorted pile. The young ensign sprinted over, abandoning his post at the door.  
  
“Doctor!” He crouched down beside her and shifted her carefully into a more natural position. “Doctor Dupont, can you hear me?”  
  
As Byron unholstered his tricorder and began scanning, he could hear the bus footsteps of the others in the room gradually come to a halt. Their stares bore into his back. _Don’t do this to me, Doc. I almost lost you once already, and for as much as I’m sure you’d love a break from me, I am so not ready to be left on my own._ The tricorder’s readout displayed all systems normal. As far as it was concerned, the Doctor was asleep. Frustrated, he knocked the device against the palm of his hand.  
  
“That’s not going to change the readings,” Chief Naazt grumbled. Byron looked up, startled. He’d somehow managed to forget that the Tellarite had been standing there this whole time.  
  
“Na-” Byron caught himself. “ _Chief_ , what happened?”  
  
“Same thing as the others. Just passed out. If you hadn’t been so busy daydreaming, you’d know that.”  
  
Byron looked from the bodies to the probe to the Chief Engineer. “Why?”  
  
“Do I look like the expert here?” Naazt snorted. “That’s your problem.” He paused and glanced at the probe as well. “You might not want to stand so close to that.”  
  
 _He’s been here longer than any of us, and yet Chief Naazt doesn’t seem to be having any adverse side effects whatsoever, Byron thought to himself. In fact, he didn’t even see the lights from the probe that everyone else mentioned. Something about his physiology must make him immune to its effects. That could be the key we need to figure out what’s going on here._  
  
“Right,” Byron said hurriedly, hopping aside and maneuvering around the fallen crew. “The tricorder scans say they’re asleep,” he resumed once he’d reached a safe distance. Naazt had followed him.  
  
“So I’ve heard.”  
  
“You’ve been here longer than any of us, and yet you’re still standing.” Byron reached again for his tricorder. Though he wasn’t looking, he could hear the impatience in Naazt’s voice as he interjected.  
  
“Thank you, Ensign. I hadn’t noticed.”  
  
He paused with the tricorder in hand and glared at the Tellarite engineer. “ _My point_ ,” Byron began again, “is that there has to be some difference. Tellarite physiology, specifically in brain structure, is very different than it is for Humans. Maybe you're immune to whatever effect it's having. I can’t risk standing anywhere near that probe, but if you can take readings in close proximity without losing consciousness like the rest of us, you just might be the key to solving this mystery.” Naazt didn’t seem convinced. “Without your help, I’m not sure how long it will be before we can find a cure. _If_ we can find a cure.”  
  
The Tellarite shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest. “What would you have me do?”  
  
“From what little data we have to work with, I’d guess the probe has established some sort of telepathic link with the officers on the ground. If that’s the case, moving them could potentially be too dangerous.” Byron handed Naazt his medical tricorder. “If you can increase the strength of the dampening field and take readings from inside it, I can analyze the data from a safe distance and hopefully figure out how to snap them out of whatever this trance is that they’re in.”  
  
“And what if we can’t find a way to wake them up?” Naazt asked gravely.  
  
Byron hesitated a moment. “Then we keep looking until we do.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Get on the ground, now!”  
  
Before the scaly Saurian could comply, the burly man to his right planted a boot on his back, shoving him forcefully to the ground. With his face pressed against the asphalt surface, the alien croaked out a single, desperate plea.  
  
“Please... don’t...”  
  
“Speak when you’re spoken to, reptile,” the woman spat. _Jessica, not just some woman,_ Clara reminded herself. She looked roughly a decade younger, and the contained passion and energy Clara had seen so clearly in _Babel_ ’s security chief had been replaced with a wild, almost savage expression of hatred. Instead of a Starfleet uniform, she was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a black jacket not unlike those Clara had seen in the “20th Century America” exhibit at the Cultural History Museum as a child. Her two subordinates, both large human men, were similarly dressed, though whether it was meant to be some sort of uniform or just a coincidence wasn’t clear.  
  
“Now, Administrator,” Jessica said with a sneer, “I think it’s time we had a little chat about your little project.”  
  
“Sanctuary?” the Saurian asked, his large eyes somehow open even wider. “What... what do you want?”  
  
Jessica kicked him hard in the face, and Clara watched blood spill from the slits where a nose would be on most humanoid species.  
  
“I ask the questions, damn it! I ask, you answer! Now, you’re going to shut down your pathetic Sanctuary project, and you’re going to turn the building over so that _real_ Terrans can live here. We’re sick of watching you parasites steal our homes and push us out of _our_ planet!”  
  
The administrator, whoever he was, seemed to darken with anger at her comment. “You’re talking about refugees, not some disease. Those are innocent people, and they’re stealing from no one.”  
  
Suddenly, it all clicked in Clara’s mind. The Sanctuary project had been a hot topic on Earth a decade ago, and even in Paris, it had been the source of several heated conversations. A set of five large housing complexes across the planet, Sanctuary was meant to take in refugee populations from across the Federation in response to the sudden outbreak of violent conflict along the Cardassian border in the wake of the ceasefire agreement. Soon after its announcement, political pressure from several sectors of Federation space led to the expansion of the project charter, taking in refugees from Klingon space, the Saurian plague, and other minor conflicts and crises, with each disenfranchised group wanting their representation. Arguments turned into insults, and in an effort to placate everyone, the Earth government agreed to expand the project, adding two additional towers in Houston and Vancouver. Despite public backlash, it ended up being one of the most successful relief projects in modern Federation history. _Except now, I’m watching one of my crew trying to derail it._  
  
“Tell that to the people you evicted to get your fucking tower built,” Jessica spat and moved to kick the man again.  
  
“No!” Clara cried out before she could stop herself, but it was as if no one could even hear her. The beating continued, and she rushed out from her hiding place to confront them. “Jessica, stop this!”  
  
She made it all the way to the small crowd, watching the three of them kicking and punching the poor Saurian until he was curled into a tight ball on the road. Desperate to stop them, Clara reached out to grab Jessica’s arm... and passed straight through the younger woman. She reached out again and watched as her hand passed straight through Jessica as if she were a ghost. _It’s almost like... I’m not really here._ Then she remembered. The flash of colors, Ensign Dansville’s readings, and her own words came rushing back to her.  
  
 _“They’re asleep, and if their brain activity is as standard as everything else I’ve picked up, they’re dreaming.”  
  
Not just dreaming, _she thought to herself grimly _. All of this has already happened. Ten years ago, Jessica was here... Mon dieu, this was really her..._  
  
“Stop!” a man’s voice shouted, bringing her out of her stupor momentarily. She turned and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in an old red Starfleet uniform pointing a phaser toward the group. His blond hair was cut short, and the spots running down the sides of his neck gave him away as a Trill. “Back away, and put your hands up!”  
  
“Fuck, Starfleet!” one of the men shouted as he turned to run. The newcomer fired the phaser toward the runner but missed as Jessica gave him a shove, shouting for them to scatter. The officer fired a second beam, hitting Jessica in the arm. She staggered against the nearby building, her wild-eyed hatred replaced now with the same intense focus Clara had taken so much comfort in on away missions aboard _Babel_. She fired her own phaser back at the man, ducking behind a waste reclamation unit. Every shot missed, of course, but nonetheless the Starfleet officer was forced back to the end of the alley to take cover as beams of intense energy shot dangerously out into the road.  
  
With her allies safely away, Jessica turned to make her own escape, firing blindly behind her for cover. Clara’s instinct was to rush to the aid of the Saurian, but whatever strange phenomenon had brought her here in the first place pulled at her, and she found herself running alongside Jessica with a youthful vigor she hadn’t felt in decades.  
  
They ran through the city’s back-alleys and side streets for what felt like hours until they reached an old, dilapidated apartment building that looked like it dated to shortly before the onset of the Third World War. _It’s a miracle this place is still standing,_ she thought absently, following Jessica up a flight of stairs and into a large open room, either a communal living room or something that had been repurposed to that effect, with several men and women lounging about, chatting, or watching the evening news on the large viewer on the far side. Several heads turned as she staggered in, and Jessica was quick to give commands.  
  
“Where’s Giles? I need his fucking medkit.”  
  
A greying man in a white shirt and fatigues rose from the nearby couch and gave her the look of infuriated concern only someone with medical training could give.  
  
“Jess? What did you get into now? Is that a phaser wound?”  
  
She rolled her eyes at the man. “No, I burned myself while making coffee. Of _course_ it’s a phaser burn!”  
  
The older man just rolled his eyes as he pulled a medkit off the wall and motioned for Jessica to take a seat on a nearby chair. With the initial shock out of the way, the rest of the room’s occupants went back to what they were doing. Jessica pulled off her jacket with a grimace of pain, and the doctor, though Clara doubted he was a real doctor, rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. The phaser burn was mild as those injuries go, but what really drew Clara’s attention was the tattoo that covered most of Jessica’s right shoulder, a blue triangle around a green and black depiction of the planet Earth. _Terra Prime._ The two words echoed in her mind, and the uncomfortable churning in her stomach grew worse. _How could someone like Jessica get caught up in a group like this?_  
  
Terra Prime, of course, was no longer the widespread organization it had been in the Twenty-Second Century when its acts of terror had nearly forced the Earth government to expel the entire nonhuman population of the Sol system, but even after its downfall, it had managed to persist throughout the next two centuries, rallying some small support among humans by demonizing the actions of nonhuman immigrants and refugees. Clara had seen them in the news on occasion, but they had never been a serious threat, and she had no recollection of them being mentioned in association with the Sanctuary project.  
  
“You know, Maxson will have your head for this,” the doctor said as he finished treating the burn.  
  
“Why?” Jessica asked irritably. “All we did was beat up the Saurian. Isn’t that a _good_ thing? He’s the one running this stupid project anyway.”  
  
“Yes, but if you’d just stunned him, taken the keycard, and left, you wouldn’t have gotten Starfleet involved.”  
  
“Like Starfleet is going to pay attention to us anyway,” she snapped back. “It’s not like he knew who we were.”  
  
“No, but the Administrator will tell the Starfleet officer what happened, and _he’ll_ report back to his superiors, and _they’ll_ start looking into posting more security, which then becomes _our_ problem.”  
  
A new voice broke up the conversation, startling Clara and Jessica both.  
  
“The doctor’s right, Jessica. When he’s done with you, I want to see you in my office.”  
  
The owner of the voice was an imposing man in a black suit, with his long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that trailed halfway down his back. He carried with him an air of authority Clara had only seen matched in politicians and Starfleet captains. Clearly, this was the Maxson the doctor had mentioned.  
  
Jessica’s head dropped in defeat. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” The look of defeat and despair on her face was so crushing that Clara found herself feeling bad for the girl, even knowing what she’d just done. As Jess pulled her sleeve back down and grabbed her jacket, Clara began to follow, until a familiar burst of colors clouded her vision, and she felt herself drifting away.  
  
 _Am I waking up, then? Why was I here in the first place? And what happened to the Captain, or Commander O’Malley?_ As she slipped further away from the worn-down Houston apartment, she found herself with more questions than answers.


	10. Chapter 10

When the dizzying array of colors faded from her vision, Clara found herself bathed in darkness. With her vision failing her, she checked her other senses. There was ground firmly beneath her feet, of that much, she was certain. Closing her eyes and focusing, she bent down to touch the place where she stood.  
  
 _Grass_ , she thought. The sensation of the tiny, soft leaves against her fingertips was unmistakable. Clara drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to let her mind wander back to the last time she’d felt real grass and not a simulation of it on a holodeck. The air as it filled her lungs brought with it an entirely new sensation. _Saltwater_. Sure enough, if she listened closely, she could hear the roar of the ocean in the distance as waves broke against the shore. Clara stood and opened her eyes again.  
  
Now that the disorientation of the lights had passed, the world around her was beginning to come into view. Under the light of the Earth’s only moon, a waxing gibbous shining brightly in the clear sky overhead, Clara could make out the silhouettes of the landscape. From what she could see, she was far from any urban lights, and the reflection of the moon on the sea was far below where she stood. _I’m on a cliff somewhere. Somewhere by the sea. Somewhere chilly,_ she looked up at the stars that had come into view. _Somewhere north of the equator._  
  
“Papa, look! I can see Jupiter’s moons!”  
  
The high-pitched squeal of excitement carried on the ocean breeze from somewhere up the gentle slope from where Clara stood. Straining her eyes against the faint light, she noticed the silhouette of a small homestead nearby, all of its lights off. Not far from the cabin stood three silhouettes of descending height, all gathered around a telescope.  
  
“Not so loud, Shannon,” the tallest figure scolded gently, stooping low to look through the telescope at the smallest figure’s insistence. “Your mother is trying to sleep.” He paused for a moment as he peered up at the sky. “Oh yes, I see them! What a beautiful sight.”  
  
“Do you think there are ships up there, Papa?”  
  
As Clara approached the group, now reasonably confident that her arrival wouldn’t cause a disruption, she was able to barely make out a messy red ponytail bouncing enthusiastically beside the telescope. Still trying to grasp her new surroundings, she came to a halt a couple of meters away from the group and stood with her back to the moon, trying to make out their features in the dim light.  
  
“I’m sure there are,” the tallest figure began. From what Clara could tell, this man was the father of the other two figures. The youngest, she assumed, was Commander O’Malley at around age six or seven. The middle figure, she was unsure of. _Does the Commander have a sibling?_  
  
“I want to see them!” young Shannon squealed, reaching for the telescope and intently scanning the tiny patch of sky she’d focused her scope on.  
  
“They’d be too small to see from here, Shan,” the middle figure said, finally speaking up. Clara looked closer at his silhouetted figure as he crouched down beside Shannon. _He must be her brother. I’d guess they’re about four years apart. Strange, she’s made no mention of him before._  
  
“What about big ships?” she asked, taking her face away from the eyepiece and looking up at her father. “I want to see the ones you design, Papa.”  
  
“Those ships don’t spend much time here in the Sol System, wee one. They’re meant to travel the stars.” As the older man spoke, his eyes also traveled up to stare longingly into space.  
  
“When can I see those ships?” Shannon asked, now tugging at her father’s pant leg. He bent down and picked her up.  
  
“You mean more than just the blueprints you like to sneak out of my desk?” He placed a finger playfully on her nose as he made his accusation. Shannon giggled.  
  
“The real ones, Papa!” Suddenly, the little girl’s face grew very serious. The shift in demeanor drew the complete attention of her father and brother. “We always look at the stars from down here, but someday, I want to see them from out there, on one of your ships. I’m gonna be a scientist, like Mumma, but I’m going to do the science out there!” With her final word, the little girl pointed emphatically out toward the stars.  
  
A light winked on in the small cabin, casting a blinding light on the small group assembled in the grass. Clara squinted and shielded her eyes from the piercing glow of the electric bulbs. A silhouette appeared in the illuminated window and a woman pushed the windows open.  
  
“There’s no sleeping with you lot outside, is there?” She sounded irritated, but the edge in her voice was softened by love.  
  
“Mumma,” Shannon cried out, “come see Jupiter!”  
  
“It’s about time you came to see your beds, don’t you think? Jupiter will be there tomorrow.”  
  
“Aw, Bun, it’s the first clear night we’ve had all week,” Shannon’s father begged, seemingly on his behalf as much as that of his daughter. Clara couldn’t help but smile.  
  
“Don’t you ‘aw, Bun’ me, Daniel.” Clara watched Shannon’s mother stop herself mid-sentence. What halted her words was unclear, but when she resumed, she began with a sigh. “Fine. You can have five more minutes--”  
  
“Ten!” Shannon blurted.  
  
“ _Ten_ more minutes, but not a second more.”  
  
“Thank you, mum,” came the voice of Shannon’s brother as he took advantage of the rare moment that the telescope was unoccupied, hurrying over to it to peek at the Galilean moons.  
  
The woman in the window waved a quiet farewell and shook her head before closing the glass panes. Her silhouette retreated back into the room and the light flicked off, bathing the yard in darkness once more. Clara found her eyes straining against the darkness once again, and she listened as feet shuffled in the grass and conversation resumed, quieter this time.  
  
 _It does seem that I am traveling in the memories of the crew, though I don’t understand how I got here. It almost certainly has something to do with the probe, but it leaves so many questions unanswered. If I am in their unconscious mind, are they in mine? If so, what are they seeing? Who is choosing the memories that we witness? Most importantly, why is this happening?_  
  
As Clara’s eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the seaside cliffs again, colors began pressing in from all sides. Rich blues and greens melted away at the edges of the landscape, saturating the monochrome palette of the still night around her. It must be time to leave again, she thought. The transitions, as disorienting as they were, fortunately, were painless. Taking a deep breath, Clara closed her eyes and waited for the weightlessness and spinning to stop as the smells, sounds, and sensations of the cool country night dissolved into a vacuous in-between.


	11. Chapter 11

This time Clara knew what to expect from the transition, and the disorientation passed quickly as she stepped into a pristine hallway. The building itself was rather drab and military in design, the interior all right angles and the walls a light gray, with red and blue lines on the floor leading toward key points of interest. She certainly didn't need to see the United Federation of Planets insignia on the nearby wall to know she was in a Starfleet facility.  
  
Almost immediately after getting her bearings, Clara heard footsteps coming down the hall, accompanied by loud voices laughing and joking. Four young figures in red uniforms rounded the corner and continued to walk her way. The uniforms were Starfleet, but the red and white tunic design hadn't been in service for over a decade. Three of the four were human, two men and one woman, followed by a stocky Tellarite who could have passed as Naazt's younger cousin. The man in the lead was tall and pale, with shaggy brown hair and a small birthmark on his cheek. He carried himself with authority and appeared to be the self-appointed leader of the group. With nowhere else to go, Clara fell in line with them as they made their way down the hall.  
  
"So there I was," the young man continued, "hanging from the rafters in Archer Hall, my pants forty meters away on top of the statue of President Archer, Simmons and Skinner long gone, and then the Superintendent walks in."  
  
"Bullshit," the strawberry-blonde woman next to him said. Staring defiantly, she came up to about shoulder height compared to the human men, on par with the Tellarite. She wore her hair in a messy bob, which seemed to stick out in every direction no matter which way she turned. "There's no way you would have gotten out of that one without getting busted back to a first-year cadet."  
  
"I told a convincing story," the man replied with a smirk.  
  
"The superintendent," the Tellarite in back interjected, "is a Betazoid. I find it far more likely that you have exaggerated the tale to us, and that you spent your time with the superintendent begging to get out of a punishment."  
  
"Fine, Skars, don't believe me then. Raj believes me, though. You do believe me, right?"  
  
Clara did a double-take at the mention of the Captain, and only then realized who the fourth member of the group was. The young man, though he still looked like just a boy, glanced up from the PADD he'd been absorbed in and rolled his eyes at the other man. Where the Captain Murali she knew was tall, muscled, and imposing, this young man was gangly and reserved. Instead of a full, graying beard, this Raj was clean-shaven, exposing a baby face that certainly didn't help him look like an adult. _I suppose I could say the same about Dansville, though, or Brahms, or any of the other fresh young men aboard_ Babel _,_ she thought.  
  
"I don't really care what your story is today, Rick," young Raj muttered to the taller man. "We need to prepare for this simulation."  
  
"What's there to prepare for?" The other man, Rick, seemed annoyed by Raj's focus. "We got called down here with thirty minutes' notice, and unless you know something I don't, we don't exactly have a mission briefing."  
  
Raj let his PADD fall to his side to give the other man his full attention. "That doesn't mean we can't go over standard procedures, flight patterns, or other basics we might need."  
  
Rick came to a halt, forcing the rest of the group to follow suit. "It's always procedure with you, isn't it? Maybe if you'd put that PADD down and live a little, you'd-"  
  
"Oh, leave him alone, Rick." The young woman glared at the taller man and crossed her arms. "You're such an ass sometimes."  
  
The Tellarite, Skars, raised a finger pointedly. "If I may interject for a moment, I thi-"  
  
"Hello, Cadets," came the stern voice of a Vulcan from down the hallway. "You are three minutes late for your simulator exercise."  
  
“Sorry, Commander,” the four of them said in unison. The commander, whoever he was, was clearly not interested.  
  
“Your apology is irrelevant. The exercise will commence shortly. Cadets Skars, Borelli, and Tyler, please proceed to the simulator room. Cadet Murali, you will act as the commanding officer for this simulation. Once your fellow cadets are at their station, I will give you the mission briefing.”  
  
“We have to take orders from Raj?” Rick moaned, before Sarah elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
“Shut up, Rick. You’re the reason we’re late in the first place. Besides, what’s wrong with taking orders from Raj?”  
  
“You _would_ say that.”  
  
“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
The two humans continued to argue as Skars pushed them through the open doorway and into the simulator room. Meanwhile, Raj remained outside with the Vulcan.  
  
“You have a briefing for me, sir?” the young cadet asked.  
  
The Commander handed Raj a PADD, and the cadet quickly transferred the information from it to his own and began reading. Clara peered over his arm and read along as the Vulcan continued.  
  
“For this mission, you will act as the commanding officer of the _USS Reliant_ , stationed near the Romulan Neutral Zone. For the purpose of this exercise, the Federation’s relationship with the Romulan Star Empire is fragile, and Starfleet Intelligence suspects the Romulans of preparing for an incursion into Federation space. As a buildup of military assets along the Neutral Zone would be seen as an act of aggression, Starfleet has decided to use civilian transports to carry munitions to outposts along the border in preparation for any Romulan action. One such vessel, the Lusitania, has failed to meet its scheduled arrival date at Starbase 718, prompting Starfleet to send your vessel to investigate.”  
  
Raj frowned at the instructor. “This ship is crewed by Starfleet personnel, then?”  
  
The Vulcan shook his head. “One intelligence operative is aboard to monitor the cargo. The ship’s captain, crew, and civilian passengers are unaware of his identity or the nature of the cargo he is transporting.”  
  
“That doesn’t seem very ethical, Commander. Is the situation that dire?”  
  
“Starfleet Command believes it is, and you are expected to abide by its decision.”  
  
“So our mission is to rescue the ship from any potential Romulan interference?”  
  
The Vulcan shook his head again, seemingly more annoyed than before, if a Vulcan could _be_ annoyed. “Your primary mission is to ensure that the Romulan Star Empire remains unaware of the munitions shipments, by any means necessary. Recovery of the ship, occupants, and cargo is desired, but is a secondary objective.”  
  
Raj was silent for several moments, and Clara could almost see the gears in his head turning, working at the problem until he found the piece he was missing. “Sir, with all due respect, this briefing could have been conducted with the four of us all present. Why send them in first if I’m just going to relay this information to them when we start the simulation?”  
  
“In this simulation, Cadet, you are a Starfleet Captain. Due to the sensitive nature of this mission, all information regarding the munitions shipments is classified. As far as your crew is aware, you are to locate a missing transport vessel and ensure it returns safely to Federation space. You are not to divulge any classified information with your crew under any circumstances, and any divulgence of said information will result in this exercise being marked as a failure, for yourself and the other three cadets.”  
  
“Understood, sir.”  
  
The Vulcan nodded a final time and gestured to the door. “Please enter the simulation room and take your station. The exercise will begin in exactly four minutes.”  
  
Clara followed Raj into the simulator room and was immediately aware of just how long it had been since Raj had been at the Academy. The “bridge” was arranged along a semicircular railing, broken in the center for the Captain and two flight officers to sit in the center. All along the back and sides of the bridge were the various operational consoles, with display readouts distinctly separated from their input arrays, unlike the more modern design of Babel. The area around the Captain’s chair had two stairs down to either side, ending with a frontal railing separating the bridge from the main viewer. Skars was standing at the back of the bridge, near the large engineering display console, and gave Raj a curt nod as he walked by with the Vulcan. As Raj took his seat, he flashed a quick smile to Sarah, sitting in front of him manning both the operations and helm consoles. The remaining cadet, Rick, glared at Raj from the tactical station to his left. Though she didn’t feel tired at all from whatever phenomenon had tossed her through her fellow crew members' memories, a growing sense of anxiety made Clara reach for a chair at one of the unoccupied stations in the back of the bridge. To her surprise, unlike the people she’d tried to reach earlier, the chair seemed willing to acquiesce to her demands, and she sat down comfortably.  
  
As the consoles began to activate, Raj set his PADD down on the armrest and addressed his crew.  
  
“Alright everyone, Starfleet has assigned the Reliant to locate and retrieve a missing transport ship, the _Lusitania_ , which disappeared near the Neutral Zone. As soon as we’re underway, Sar- I mean, Cadet Borelli, I want you to plot a course for their last known location, which should be on your screen.”  
  
“Aye, sir,” she replied with a grin.  
  
“Cadet Tyler, I want you to scan for radiation consistent with disruptor fire.”  
  
“Shouldn’t we be looking for ion trails to find the missing ship?” Rick asked.  
  
Raj shook his head. “The _Lusitania_ is more than a day overdue at the Starbase. Any ion trail would be far too faint for us to detect and follow if we want to get there quickly. Once we get closer, we’ll be able to detect their trail, assuming there’s one to follow. If the Romulans are involved, we can’t afford to miss them.  
  
“Alright, I guess,” the man replied, shaking his head. Lastly, Raj turned to the Tellarite behind him.  
  
“Skars, I want everything you can get out of the warp engines. We’re up against the clock, here.”  
  
“Understood, sir,” the Tellarite said as he turned to the panel and began to work furiously away at something Clara knew she wouldn’t understand.  
  
“Course laid in and ready, sir,” Sarah said from the conn, prompting a familiar grim nod from Raj that seemed out of place on a face so young.  
  
“Engage.”  
  
The simulation continued in relative silence for several minutes as their fictitious ship made a mad dash for the Federation border of the Neutral Zone when Clara saw Cadet Tyler’s head jump up from his console.  
  
“I’ve got something!” he shouted. “A strong radiation signature matching Romulan disruptor fire. Looks like it’s only a few minutes old. They’re inside the Neutral Zone, just past the Federation border.”  
  
“Helm, set a course at maximum warp,” Raj replied. “Go to Yellow Alert.”  
  
The “ship” complied immediately, and an alert tone sounded throughout the bridge as Sarah abandoned the search pattern and changed headings to the source of the radiation.  
  
“We’ll be there in four minutes, Captain,” she said. “Are you sure you want to take us into the Neutral Zone?”  
  
“You heard Cadet Tyler,” Raj replied. “They’re a lot closer to our space than their own. If the Romulans want to make accusations, they’ll have to admit they were already trespassing on their own accord.”  
  
“Who knows what the Romulans will do?” Rick asked. “No one’s heard from them in over a decade.”  
  
“We’re going to take that chance.”  
  
Four minutes later, space seemed to compress around them as they dropped out of warp. On the main viewer, two ships squared off just a few hundred kilometers away. One, the small transport ship Clara could only assume was the _Lusitania_ , sat disabled, noticeably leaking plasma into space, while the Romulan warbird across from it loomed at the ready.  
  
“Red Alert!” Raj snapped, standing from his chair immediately. “Arm phasers and torpedoes, and hail the Romulan vessel. Scan the _Lusitania_ for lifesigns.”  
  
Skars moved quickly from the engineering console to the communications console to comply with the order, phasing through Clara’s leg as he moved. “They’re responding, but audio only.”  
  
A sharp crackle filled the room, and a menacing voice addressed the crew. _“Starfleet vessel, you have entered the Neutral Zone in violation of the Treaty of Algeron. Stand down your weapons and lower your shields. Your ship will be impounded, but your crew will not be harmed.”_  
  
“Like hell we will,” Rick muttered before Raj cut him off with a look.  
  
“Romulan vessel,” Raj began, “this is Raj Murali of the Federation Starship Reliant. We are here to recover a transport vessel that suffered a malfunction near the border. If you’ll stand down and allow us to tow the transport away, we’ll forget that your ship crossed into the Neutral Zone first, and fired on a civilian ship.”  
  
“Four lifesigns aboard the _Lusitania_ ,” Sarah whispered in a voice Clara could only hear from the effects of the memory, and Raj nodded in reply. He stood from the chair and walked over to the tactical station while the Romulan commander responded.  
  
 _“That would be unacceptable, Captain Murali. That vessel and its contents are the property of the Romulan Star Empire. Its occupants are criminals and subject to Romulan authority.”_  
  
Raj motioned with his hand to mute the audio feed with the Romulan ship. “Tactical, how do we stand up compared to the Romulan ship?”  
  
“We’re evenly matched,” Rick said. “Though our data is eleven years out of date. I wouldn’t be surprised if they can outgun us.”  
  
“We’ll try diplomacy first, but keep the weapons ready. Skars, open the channel again.” At the Tellarite’s nod, he continued. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement here. I’m afraid the crew and the ship are non-negotiable, though. I won’t allow them to be taken into Romulan custody.”  
  
 _“That’s because they are valuable Federation spies,” the Romulan commander snapped. “The ship will be impounded, its crew detained and interrogated, and its cargo confiscated. The only compromise I will offer is that your ship may leave unharmed if you do not interfere as we administer justice.”_  
  
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Raj replied. “Tactical, lock weapons on the _Lusitania_.”  
  
“What?” the other three cadets shouted in unison.  
  
“Lock weapons on the transport vessel,” Raj repeated.  
  
 _“Reliant, stand down your weapons or we will be forced to open fire.”_  
  
“I’m not going to fire on civilians,” Rick said, working at the tactical controls.  
  
“Raj, you can’t be serious!” Sarah shouted from the helm.  
  
“The Romulan vessel is locking weapons on us,” Skars said pointedly.  
  
“I am serious,” Raj said. “Lock onto the transport and fire, then take us out of the Neutral Zone.”  
  
“No!” Rick shouted. “I’m targeting the Romulan ship. We can fight our way out and save the transport.”  
  
“You’ll start a war!” Sarah replied, turning her horror on Rick.  
  
“Two more warbirds decloaking behind us,” Skars said, still lost in his analysis.  
  
“Damn it, Rick, that’s an order!” Raj shouted, just as a thin green beam lanced out from the Romulan ship. The bridge shook, though Clara noted that the simulator wasn’t programmed to offer the type of violent shaking that could happen in a real combat scenario, and damage alerts sounded across the bridge.  
  
“Returning fire,” Rick said as he worked the controls. The ship shook again as the two decloaked warbirds fired on the rear of their simulated ship, and after a minute of frantic shouting from the disorganized cadets, the main viewer went black and the bridge lights returned to normal.  
  
“The Romulan vessels have destroyed the _Reliant_ ,” Skars reported, still at his station.  
  
“Yeah, I think we figured that one out already, Skars,” Raj said irritably. “What the hell was that, Rick?”  
  
The tall, brown-haired man turned angrily to face Raj. “I should ask you the same question! An enemy ship threatens a friendly transport, and you order me to fire on the _civilian_ ship?”  
  
“The Romulans didn’t become enemy combatants until you disobeyed an order and targeted them!”  
  
“Gentlemen, the time for arguments is over.” The Vulcan commander stepped forward to the center of the bridge, startling Clara, who’d forgotten he was still there. “Your ship was destroyed by Romulan warbirds in the Neutral Zone, the transport vessel _Lusitania_ was captured and towed to Romulan space, and the incursion and the subsequent one-sided battle have provided the Romulan Star Empire with a justification for war with the Federation. For those reasons, this exercise will be considered a complete failure. Cadet Tyler, you disobeyed a direct order from your commanding officer. Please explain your actions during the exercise.”  
  
Rick crossed his arms in defense. “The order was unethical. I’m not going to fire on civilians.”  
  
“Cadet Murali, your justification?” the Vulcan asked.  
  
“The transport...” Raj bit off his sentence as the instructor raised an eyebrow at him. Apparently, the clause on not sharing “classified” information was still in effect. “The transport wasn’t worth the lives that would be lost if the Romulans went to war with the Federation. I chose to threaten the transport in the hopes that the Romulans would see us targeting them and decide not to push the issue.”  
  
“You later ordered Cadet Tyler to fire on the transport when the Romulans prepared to fire on you. Why?”  
  
“I... I’m not at liberty to disclose that information, sir.”  
  
The Vulcan nodded, making a note on his PADD. “This exercise is over. You are all dismissed.”  
  
“Great going, Raj,” Rick muttered as he stormed out of the room. Skars followed him without a word. Sarah shared a defeated look with Raj, and the two of them made their way out of the room after them, keeping their distance. Clara exited with them, her heart still beating rapidly from the intensity of the simulation. _I’ve never had much interest in holodecks, but I’m beginning to understand how people can become so absorbed in them, she thought._  
  
“You did the best you could,” Sarah said, putting a hand on Raj’s shoulder.  
  
“Not that it mattered,” he replied. “Rick doesn’t listen to any orders but his own.”  
  
“And _that_ is why you’ll be a better officer than he’ll ever be.”  
  
Raj let out a short laugh. “I don’t know that that counts for much. You could say that about my parents’ dog and you’d still be right.”  
  
“Well, if cheap compliments won’t cheer you up, what will?”  
  
Raj stopped, and this time his smile was genuine. “Dinner at your place?”  
  
“I’ll see you at eighteen-hundred.”  
  
Clara watched as Raj and Sarah shared a smile and parted ways. The levity with which the Captain’s younger self walked was so distinctly youthful, for a moment, she found it hard to believe they were the same person. He seemed happy. There was an unspoken optimism about him that saw potential in the future, and he wore it as clearly as that smile as soon as he had been relieved. Even off-duty, Clara had never seen her Raj Murali express the same lightheartedness. _I wonder what happened to that side of him. Was it simply lost to time or is it still there, buried in his memory?_ The colors appeared again in front of her, and she stepped through, still lost in her reflections.


	12. Chapter 12

Byron finished reviewing the last few lines of compiled data on his PADD from where he sat atop a stack of cargo crates before setting the small device down beside him and leaning back to stretch his shoulders. It felt like it had been hours since he and Naazt had begun analyzing the probe’s progress and its effects on the unconscious senior staff. When he sat back up, the young medical technician called across the cargo bay, his voice echoing off of the metal walls surrounding them.  
  
“Alright, Chief, what have you got for me?”  
  
The Tellarite engineer slammed a meaty fist against the side of the probe’s shell.  
  
“Well,” he said with a sigh, “I can tell you it’s working.”  
  
Byron raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘it’s working’?”  
  
“It’s power emissions and other signals going to the command officers are stable and steady, at least the ones we’re capable of reading. It’s not emitting anything harmful to the ship, doesn’t appear to be _capable_ of harming the ship, and shows no signs of ramping up its output signals. I can’t tell you exactly _what_ it’s doing, Ensign, but I _can_ tell you that it’s operating as intended.”  
  
Ensign Dansville picked up his PADD and hopped down from the crate, taking notes on Naazt’s observations as he made his way across the room, keeping a safe distance from the probe. “My observations suggest that the probe is keeping them in a sort of artificial REM sleep. I keep seeing occasional spikes in brainwave activity from each of them individually, but I can’t figure out what’s causing them or what they mean.” He turned off his screen and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against another crate, nearer to the Chief Engineer. “The important thing is that their vitals are holding stable. Whatever that thing is doing, it doesn’t appear to be causing them any harm.”  
  
“So, what are we supposed to do?” Naazt turned and mirrored Byron’s pose. “Should we just leave them here and babysit them while they nap?”  
  
“Unless we can determine exactly what that probe is doing down to the synaptic level, yeah, pretty much.” Byron shrugged. “Between your data and mine, it looks like it needs its ‘subjects’ to be asleep, and it intends to keep them that way.”  
  
“And if they don’t wake up?”  
  
“Then we try to find a way to deactivate the probe, I guess. Trying to pull them out of their induced slumbers is more likely to hurt them than it is to help us. Their vitals are hanging within an abnormally steady range of variability. Usually, when we dream, our bodies respond as if it were real, which is why people who suffer from vivid nightmares sometimes wake up in a cold sweat with their hearts racing. Even the most pleasant dreams elicit _some_ sort of physical response.” The young med-tech turned on his PADD again and held it out to Naazt, pointing at a series of jumping lines. “I can tell that they’re dreaming, so it should be having some sort of physiological effect on them, but it’s not. The best explanation I can think of there is that the probe has somehow taken control of their autonomous nervous system, which controls their breathing and heart rate, among other things. Trying to disconnect them now would be like pulling the plug on someone on life support.”  
  
“So we wait, then,” Naazt grumbled. “I’m fine waiting for an hour or two, but if we don’t see any change, we have to have a backup plan.”  
  
“That… seems reasonable,” Byron said with a note of hesitation. “I think we ought to ask whoever is in charge what their opinion is on the matter.” He glanced down at the Tellarite’s collar and noted the number of pips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t that be you?”  
  
The stocky engineer’s beard seemed to follow his mouth into a grin. “No, Ensign, my domain is strictly engineering. Right now, Lieutenant Caldwell has the bridge.”  
  


***

  
_This is exactly why I have no interest in command,_ Jeremy thought to himself as the crew on the bridge let out a collective sigh of relief. _There are no quick decisions in geology, and on the off-chance there’s a rock slide out in the field, the answer is pretty decisive: Run away._  
  
As his mind churned while staring vacantly out the main viewer, Jeremy became acutely aware of one intent pair of eyes on him. He pulled himself away from his present train of thought and looked over at David. Despite the young man’s calm outward appearance, Jeremy could tell that there was an incredible amount of emotion pent up behind that stare.  
  
“Miss Benson, you said that the anomaly appears to have stopped following us for now?” Jeremy asked, not breaking eye contact with Ensign Brahms.  
  
“Yes, sir. It appears to be holding its relative position.”  
  
“Good. Ensign Brahms, can you meet me in the ready room, please?” _That feels uncomfortable to say._  
  
The two men rose from their seats and headed for the Captain’s ready room, the door parting for them just as it would for someone of greater importance. Once the two were inside and the door firmly closed behind them, Ensign Brahms squared off to Jeremy, now prominently displaying all of the disappointment he’d been concealing before.  
  
“With all due respect, _sir_ , what the hell was that?” the young man snapped.  
  
The sudden outburst from someone who was so often reserved caught Jeremy off guard. “What do you mean?” He was fairly certain he knew exactly what David was referring to, but the appeal of denial was far too strong.  
  
“I mean that half-assed excuse for captaining,” David replied angrily. “I get that you outrank me, and speaking my mind like this could easily get me a demerit at the very least, but I trust you, so I’m going to be honest.” He took a deep breath to collect himself and cool his head. When David spoke again, his tone was still sharp, but it had an evenness about it that had previously been missing.  
  
“Your hesitation could have cost us our lives. We don’t know what that anomaly is, where it came from, or what it’s capable of. One of the most difficult and important elements of command is being able to make split-second decisions because a fraction of a second could mean the difference between life and death.” David sighed and leaned back against the wall, leaving Jeremy standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, which, he noted, suddenly felt far too small.  
  
“I’ve seen you in action, sir,” David continued. “I know you’re capable of making those important decisions, but when you were in the Captain’s Chair, you froze. It was as if you’d forgotten how to think. If the stakes had been lower, it might have been funny. Now, I get that I’m just a helmsman and an ensign at that, but if I could figure out what needed to be done, I don’t doubt you could have done the same. Whatever is on your mind and holding you back, forget about it. We need you out there.”  
  
David’s final words hung in the room for a long while after he finished speaking. Jeremy had felt his shoulders slump from their initial position of feigned confidence as his helmsman lectured him on what it meant to be in command. My _helmsman,_ Jeremy thought. _He’s right. I can’t just hide behind my own lack of preparedness. Whether I like it or not, I’m in command of Babel until the rest of the senior staff returns. I just wish I had half the confidence in my abilities in the chair as he seems to. Command takes a certain mindset. How am I supposed to get into that mindset?_  
  
Time resumed outside Jeremy’s bubble of internal reflection and he looked up at David. Even without knowing exactly what it took to be a good captain, Jeremy could tell that David would likely be among the best of them someday. In a way, he found the thought oddly inspiring.  
  
“Alright,” Jeremy finally answered with a sigh as he ran a hand over his beard. “I agree with you, but if I’m going to be even halfway decent as acting captain, I’m going to need some guidance. Every captain needs a first officer to keep them in check. With the senior staff out of commission and the chain of command scrambled like this, there’s no real order to anything on the bridge. That’s why I want you to be my Number One.”  
  
“Me?” It was David’s turn to be caught off-guard. “Why me?”  
  
“Well, for starters, you have the balls to drag me aside and tell me when I’ve screwed up.”  
  
David coughed uncomfortably and looked away. Jeremy smirked and continued on.  
  
“Second, you’ve got a quick mind for maneuvers when we’re in a pinch. When I faltered, you didn’t. You said it yourself, a split second can mean the difference between life and death. If it comes down to it again and I hesitate, I trust you to take the necessary steps to get us out of trouble.”  
  
“You realize XOs aren’t supposed to act without the captain’s consent, right?”  
  
“Yes, and that brings me to my third reason I’m appointing you as my second in command: I need guidance. Everyone in that room out there knows at this point that I’m a bumbling geologist. Well, they’re not wrong, but we also can’t afford for them to be right. I never took command courses at the Academy, so I’m going to need to learn on the fly.”  
  
“And you want _me_ to teach you?” David inserted, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
“I’m not asking you to buy me dinner, Ensign.”  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause before David let out a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well, for the sake of saving face, do your best to make as many decisions as you can on your own, and sound confident when giving the orders. If you’re not sure about something, just… try to phrase the question as if you already have your mind made up.”  
  
Jeremy furrowed his brows. “What you’re suggesting sounds like a charade.”  
  
“We just stared down what may well have been death. It’s currently sitting at a stable distance a few thousand kilometers to our starboard side. We’re shaken, we’re uncertain, and we’re in need of someone who can lead us with confidence, even if they’re just posturing. That person has got to be you, sir.”  
  
Jeremy drew in a deep breath. “Alright then. The longer we keep them waiting, the more time that anxiety has to settle. Let’s get back out there.”  
  
David nodded and stepped aside, clearing the path to the door. “After you, sir.”


	13. Chapter 13

Clara opened her eyes as the color dissipated and immediately regretted it. Her heart lurched in her chest and vertigo took hold as she stared down the hundred-meter drop to the ground below. She panicked and tried to step back, only to realize there was nowhere to step. The smooth exterior of a tall tower was at least three meters away from her, with no evidence of any exterior walkway. She braved a glance down at her feet and saw nothing but thin air supporting her. _Focus, Clara. Take a deep breath and look where you are. This is a memory, you're just along for the ride._  
  
Steadying her breathing, Clara focused on what was around her. She spun effortlessly in midair, and only a few feet away, she spotted four figures on the side of the tall building. Dressed head to toe in black, their grav-boots allowed them to climb carefully up the outside of the tower. Testing her newfound ability to hover, Clara moved closer to the four with a thought. _I guess if I can move through objects, I can keep close to whoever’s memory I’m reliving. This almost has to be one of Jessica’s._ A closer inspection of the climbers proved her right as she recognized Jessica’s toned build and dark ponytail leading the group.  
  
“Hold here,” Jessica said as she raised one hand in a fist. “This should be the spot. The last of the exterior security alarms are below us. Mark, get that window open.”  
  
A black-clad figure next to her nodded and pulled out a laser cutter from his belt. The thin beam cut quietly, if slowly, and a few minutes later the man eased the inch-thick glass down to the floor inside the building.  
  
“We’re in,” he said, and Jess motioned for the team to move inside. Clara willed herself forward, and suddenly was standing firmly on the floor of the building with the others. She looked around at the room and wasn't surprised at all to find it unlit and empty. _This must be Sanctuary Tower before construction was completed and the first refugees housed. But what are they here for?_  
  
"Lights on, stay low, and keep quiet," Jessica ordered in a quiet but commanding tone. The other three acknowledged her and flicked on the small headlamps fastened to their black masks. Four beams of light bounced around the empty floor as they continued through the tower, and the tension kept anyone from making a sound. After several minutes of methodical progress, Jessica ordered them to stop.  
  
"This should be the spot," she said, looking down at a simple PADD featuring the tower blueprints and four marked locations. "Kemba, place the first charge along the support beam here. Mark, take another upstairs and place it on the same beam. Follow the deployment layout on your PADDs from there. Hu, you're with me. We need to move down to the other side of the tower."  
  
Each member of the team nodded, and the dark, curly-haired woman carrying the largest pack began distributing rectangular metallic objects to each of them. _Spatial charges,_ Clara realized with horror. _They're trying to blow up the tower._ Powerless to stop them, and taking solace in the fact that she had no memory of any such bombing taking place, Clara followed as Jessica and the remaining man, Hu, took their charges and made their way through the mostly empty tower.  
  
Clara followed the pair down two levels, where storage boxes littered the floor, marking hundreds of unassembled beds, tables, chairs, and other necessities for such a large housing project. Stacked alongside the furniture were large sheets of metal, transparent aluminum, and more construction materials she didn’t recognize. Stepping carefully around the staging ground, Jessica started marking locations to place more explosives.  
  
“Start here, then follow the pattern Maxson gave us.”  
  
Hu nodded, his stocky features standing out even in the dim light. They worked together silently for several minutes until Hu stopped with a frown.  
  
“Jess, something’s not right.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, the layout for the charges. It’s all wrong.”  
  
Wiping sweat from her brow, the younger woman joined him and looked at his PADD. “Maxson planned it himself, what do you mean it’s wrong?”  
  
Hu pointed out each demolition charge on the map. “We have charges placed on four different floors, with different demolition layouts on each floor.”  
  
“Right,” she said, “to take out the key support beams keeping the tower up. When the charges go off, they should leave structural weaknesses and bring each floor of the tower down on the one below it.”  
  
“That’s what we were told, Jess, but that’s not what’s going to happen. We’re leaving one side stronger than the other. When the tower starts to fall, the North facing side is going to collapse quicker than the South side, until the whole tower starts to tip. If we keep the charges how they are, we’re going to bring half of the tallest building in the city down on its neighbors.”  
  
“That’s impossible,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “Maxson wouldn’t do that. It must be some kind of mistake.”  
  
“Jess...” Hu started carefully. “Those neighboring buildings are mostly alien housing. I don’t know if Maxson would consider that a problem... or another target.”  
  
“Pardon the interruption,” another voice broke in, “but I’m not about to take that chance.”  
  
The same Starfleet officer from the alley Clara had seen in Jessica’s previous memory was there before them, with a phaser drawn and leveled right at Jessica.  
  
“I’m Commander Tristor Beldon,” the man said. “Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” As Jessica and Hu ducked behind the nearest cover and reached for their own weapons, the man sighed. “Why do they always choose the hard way?”  
  
The Starfleet officer dove for cover as Jessica and Hu opened fire, squeezing off a few shots from his own phaser to keep them pinned. Moving quickly, the large Trill darted from crate to crate, ducking and diving to avoid shots from Jessica’s phaser, only to run nearly into Hu, who had moved around to the other side. The stocky Asian man raised his phaser, and for one terrifying moment, Clara thought the Trill officer was going to die. Then, quicker than she could track, Beldon was under the phaser. Clara heard the snap of bone as he forced Hu’s arm backward at the elbow, and his phaser tumbled to the floor. Beldon finished the man off with a kick to the knee and an elbow to the nose, diving back behind a support pillar as Hu collapsed to the ground, unconscious.  
  
Jessica hadn’t hesitated during that time either. The moment the phaser pistol fell from Hu’s hand, she bounded toward Beldon at a sprint. She reached the pillar at the same time the Trill officer did and dropped her shoulder as she slammed into him, sending them both to the ground. Jessica’s phaser clattered on the unfinished floor, and she reached desperately for the one still in Beldon’s hand. They rolled over each other as they wrestled for control of the phaser, but the Starfleet commander maintained his grip. He hooked his leg around Jessica’s and pinned her back against the floor.  
  
“Stop fighting me and we can talk this over,” he said, both of them panting.  
  
For a moment, Jessica looked like she was going to respond. Instead, she slammed her head forward into Beldon’s nose and grabbed at the phaser, failing to wrench it from his grasp, but thumbing the firing mechanism. A thin yellow beam lanced outward past the two, piercing directly into one of the spatial charges resting on a support beam. The charge exploded in a flash of white, and Clara felt herself drop into a freefall as she was wrenched violently out of the memory and into something new.


	14. Chapter 14

When the familiar technicolor transition faded once more, Clara found herself adrift outside the shipyards of Utopia Planitia. It took all her strength not to scream as she reminded herself once more that it was all a dream. Instead of the biting chill of the vacuum of space against her skin, she felt a warm caress. It reminded her of sitting at the edge of the tide as a child, feeling the sun-kissed sands swirling around her as the waves broke against the shore. That far distant memory nearly drew her from the present one, a memory, she reminded herself, which did not belong to her.  
  
Uncertain how best to move, she tried closing her eyes. Clara imagined herself inside the station, and moments later, she felt something solid materialize below her feet. When she opened her eyes, geometric hallways stretched out in either direction, bustling with activity. In addition to adults who clearly worked at the shipyards, there were quite a few children ranging from their early teens to no more than five or six years old.  
  
 _Strange. It must be some sort of special occasion._ A display screen flashed beside her as its message shifted from a facility map to a festive marquee welcoming the families of Starfleet personnel to Utopia Planitia. Ah, she thought, instinctively stepping out of the way of a mother-son pair deep in conversation. _It must be Bring Your Child To Work Day. How quaint. I had no idea that Starfleet was so family-oriented._  
  
“Papa, look!” Clara heard a familiar voice squeal above the hubbub of the corridors. She turned to see a very excited young girl jumping up and down near a window as she held her father’s hand. “That’s an Ambassador Class, isn’t it?”  
  
Doctor Dupont wove through the crowd, quickly remembering she could pass through solid objects. Before Shannon’s father could answer, Clara was standing right beside them, peering over the young girl’s head. Her hair was in a neater ponytail than the last time she’d seen Shannon in her youth, though already it was beginning to come apart, despite her parents’ best efforts, no doubt.  
  
“Very good!” her father said with a proud smile. “They’ve been building those--”  
  
“Since before I was born!” Shannon interjected.  
  
Her father laughed. “Since before I knew your Mum!”  
  
Shannon’s bright hazel eyes grew wide with astonishment as she stared at her father before plastering her hands and face to the window. The three of them looked out the window at the empty frame of a new Starfleet vessel and watched as the brand-new ship’s designation took shape before their eyes. _USS Exeter_ , Clara read. _NCC-26531._  
  
A fourth person, another man in uniform, stepped aside from the flow of people to join their little group. “Good morning, Daniel,” he said cheerily.  
  
Shannon’s father turned around and shook the newcomer’s hand. “Cayman! Good to see you, man.” He released the handshake and placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Cayman, this is my daughter, Shannon. She’s been begging to come here and see the ships since she could talk.”  
  
“Well, good morning to you too, Shannon,” Cayman said, extending a hand for her to shake. “What do you think of everything so far?”  
  
The little red-haired girl grasped his hand and shook it excitedly, bouncing her entire body in the process. “Papa took me to see all sorts of stuff, mostly different parts of the shipyard. I got to see some schematics in his office, too!”  
  
“That sounds like a real adventure,” Cayman said, drawing back his hand and shaking it limply in jest. “That’s quite a grip you’ve got there.” Shannon beamed in response. “Daniel, have you considered taking her down to see the physics and propulsion labs?”  
  
Daniel shook his head. “I don’t have clearance for those areas. Just the shipyards and my division.”  
  
“Well, you’re in luck, because I do. Clearance is a bit more lax today. Let me give you a tour.”  
  
Before Daniel could object, Shannon was already cheering and tugging at his arm, begging to go.  
  
 _I don’t think I’ve ever seen a child with such a fervor for knowledge. It’s a wonder she didn’t become an engineer like her father._  
  
\---  
  
“Alright, Shan,” her father shushed, his voice lowered to suit the relative calm of the lower decks. “I know how exciting this is, but you need to remember your inside voice down here, alright?”  
  
The young girl gave the sign for promised silence as she nodded and ran a pair of pinched fingers across her mouth, “zipping” it shut. With her excitement contained and her composure regained, Shannon suddenly looked older. Clara hadn’t noticed before, but despite her childlike excitement, the little girl she’d seen last time she’d visited the Commander’s memories, had grown. _She must be approaching her teens now. Still a child in many ways, but growing. Now, I see that maturity she wears so well._ Clara chuckled to herself as she followed the small group through the doors to the propulsion labs. _I never thought I’d have the opportunity to watch a child grow up. It’s… Sweet._  
  
Inside the propulsion labs, the gentle hum of test engines filled the air, and Clara watched as Shannon’s composure gave way to awe as the young girl took in the room. Undulating, glowing lights illuminated the otherwise dusky space, and scientists busied themselves with their data and experiments, hardly noticing the newcomers to the room.  
  
Cayman crouched down beside Shannon and gestured to different stations around the room, explaining one by one what their purpose was. “This is where the magic happens. Your father’s division works hard designing the ships, and here is where we figure out how to send them out to the stars.”  
  
The young girl gawped. “How does it work?”  
  
Cayman and her father both chuckled as they led her over to an older model of warp engine that had become a decorative piece in the laboratory. “You see, warp travel works by creating an isolated subspace field in which a ship travels through…”  
  
Clara stepped back and looked around the room as the group launched into a deep discussion about warp engines and matter-antimatter reactions. It was all well beyond her, and at this point, she considered herself to be far too old to bother learning anything so intricate and new. _I’m best off sticking to medicine._  
  
In her travels through the unconscious minds of her crewmates, Clara had learned much about them as individuals and very little about the world into which she had been launched. Physics seemed not to apply to her. Matter was variable, walls were penetrable, and space was habitable. She looked around the room self-consciously for a moment before remembering they could not see her, and Clara walked toward the wall with one hand extended. _I should be able to go through this_. Sure enough, with no more resistance than walking through an energy field, Clara found herself back out in the hallway. It looked much the same as it had before, though some of the lines were blurred. As she retraced their steps back toward the turbolift, the shapes around her became less and less defined. By the time she reached the lift, borders had begun to gray. _Interesting. It appears that the brain doesn’t maintain the constructs far beyond the memory. The space outside, however, seemed to stretch on forever. I suppose that’s because it’s easier to imagine a void than it is to create complex architecture._  
  
Satisfied with her probing, Clara returned to the laboratory doors and passed through the corridor wall. The three subjects were still deep in conversation around the warp core. Shannon looked enthralled while her father wore much the same expression Clara felt she might have had she stayed for the discussion. Footsteps from across the room drew her attention from the trio, as she followed the sound to a rather displeased-looking Vulcan woman who was approaching the group.  
  
“Excuse me, but I do not believe children are allowed in this part of the facility.”  
  
Cayman turned and held out his badge. “I have clearance to be here. My coworker’s daughter was touring the shipyards today and I thought she would find this department’s work enlightening.”  
  
“What you thought,” the woman said with a small scowl, “is of no concern to me. There are classified projects in this room. No visitors allowed.”  
  
Daniel stepped forward and addressed the Vulcan. “We have no intention of causing trouble. We’ll be on our way.”  
  
The stern woman narrowed her eyes and visually addressed each member of the group. “Indeed.” She stepped aside to allow them passage to the exit. Daniel took the cue without hesitation, taking hold of Shannon’s hand and leading the three of them out into the hall.  
  
Clara stood by and watched as Shannon’s gaze lingered on the woman. _It’s rude to stare like that_ , was her first thought, but she quickly realized that this was likely the first time the young girl had seen a non-human before. Surely, she’d heard of them, but if this was her first trip off of Earth, it was likely also her first opportunity to encounter other races. _Not the best first impression, but from the few Starfleet Vulcans I’ve met in my time, it is a fairly accurate one. Always following protocol to the word._  
  
When she passed through the wall this time, Clara stepped out into the atrium on the main floor instead of the quiet hallway of the lower decks. Cayman had gone and Shannon was sitting at a table with her father, sulking over a tray of food. Ignoring the people moving this way and that, Clara made her way to the table, which she presumed to be solid, and took a seat across from the young girl and her father.  
  
“I wish I could have stayed down there longer. Everything he had to say was so interesting.” Shannon looked up from her plate and regarded her father with sad eyes. “I want to work here when I’m older.”  
  
“Work here?” Daniel questioned, “but I thought you wanted to travel the stars.”  
  
Shannon perked up at that. “I do!”  
  
“Then the last place you’d probably want to end up stuck is here at the shipyards. Sure, some of the more notable people travel to conferences and things like that, but that hardly sounds like the kind of traveling you’ve always talked about.” He leaned in on one elbow and smiled. “Tell me, where do you want to go.”  
  
“Anywhere,” she said with dreamy eyes as she looked out the window of the station into the stippled blackness of space beyond. “Everywhere.”  
  
“Do you know what you want to do while you travel?”  
  
“I want…” she paused to think about her answer. “I want to be a scientist. Like Mum.”  
  
“A sociologist?”  
  
“Kind of. I want to know more about Vulcans and...” she leaned in and whispered as she gestured covertly to a rather stout individual making their way to a table. “And those furry people, too.”  
  
Her father laughed. “Tellarites are a fascinating people, as are Vulcans and Andorians and many, many others. It sounds to me like you have some interesting conversations lined up with your mother for when we get home.”  
  
“All I know is that I want to be on one of those ships someday,” she said, leaning back in her chair and picking up her fork to gesture to the nearly completed Ambassador Class outside the window. “They go everywhere.”  
  
“That they do.” Daniel paused a moment, seemingly debating whether or not to voice his next thought. “Just keep on top of your studies, and when the time comes, we’ll discuss enrolling you in the Academy.”  
  
“Really??” Shannon exclaimed louder than necessary. She winced and lowered her voice as a few other diners turned their heads toward the racket. “You really mean it? I could go to the Academy?”  
  
“Not for a few more years, but I don’t see why not.” He smiled at his daughter, his eyes full of pride and praise for his little girl. “Just keep up the good work at school and you ought to be a shoo-in.”  
  
Shannon jumped up and hugged him. “I promise, Papa!”  
  
Clara smiled as colored lights began to bleed into the scene. _Commander O’Malley has such sweet memories. I’m always a little sad when it’s time to leave._ The doctor closed her eyes and prepared for the shift between minds as the world around her dissolved once again.


	15. Chapter 15

The smell of fresh pasta filled the air even before Clara could take in her new surroundings. She was seated on a small brown sofa in the middle of a tiny, but colorful one-room apartment, its once-white walls colored with splatters of paint in nearly every color of the rainbow. Shelves and end tables alike were covered in model ships ranging from old Earth sailing vessels to modern Starfleet explorers, and she even spotted a worn model of Zephram Cochrane's famous Phoenix, which made the very first Human warp-speed flight and led to First Contact with the Vulcans. _Whoever lives here must be quite the historian, or at least a ship enthusiast._ Then a man's voice spoke up, and she realized where she was.  
  
"You know, I've always admired your unique sense of interior design, but have you ever considered that you might have more space if you didn't have so many model ships?"  
  
Raj, still evidently a Starfleet cadet, was sitting at a small round dining table across from the young woman from the training exercise, Sarah, staring ravenously at the plate of spaghetti in front of him.  
  
"You're exaggerating. Besides, you're one to talk," she said with a laugh. "Not all of us can litter our rooms with Parrises' Squares trophies."  
  
Raj raised an eyebrow at her. "Now which one of us is exaggerating? Rick was the one who did most of the work for those."  
  
"Rick also fell right off the ramp and broke his arm in the final, leaving you to make up for him and score all the points, so just take the damn compliment, Raj," she teased. "But you didn't bring up Rick because of a sporting event, did you?"  
  
“He just has to bully his way into making the decisions every single time!” Raj threw his hands up in frustration. “This was supposed to be _my_ mission to command, but he questioned me at every turn, and refused to follow my orders!”  
  
“Raj, I know he was being a dick at the start, but you ordered him to fire on a civilian ship when we were being attacked by Romulans. I still don’t understand what that was about, and I can’t necessarily blame him for hesitating.”  
  
“So now you’re taking _his_ side?”  
  
“This isn’t about sides,” Sarah said defensively. “It was your mission, so you explain it. Of all of the options we had, why target the ship we were sent to protect? I want to believe you had a good reason, but I just can’t see what it could have been.”  
  
Raj leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and taking a moment to calm himself. “And if I told you I wasn’t able to give you an answer?”  
  
“What do you mean? Are you telling me it was some kind of gut feeling? That’s not like you, Raj.”  
  
He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I had a reason, but not one I’m at liberty to share. Commander’s orders.”  
  
Sarah dropped her head into her hands and leaned her elbows on the table. “I... I don’t know. Looking back at it now, as a simulation, maybe I can accept that. But when it was really happening, when half of my brain was telling me there was a _real_ transport ship out there with _real_ people on board, it seemed so wrong. I was just running the helm, but if I had been in Rick’s place controlling the phasers... I don’t know if I could have done it either. Not without knowing why.”  
  
Clara took one look at the younger Raj’s face and knew he felt betrayed. _It’s not an issue of what’s right, it’s an issue of trust. He’s just not experienced enough to realize that,_ she thought to herself. _If he’s reliving this right now like I am, I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing._  
  
“If I’m the commanding officer, isn’t my senior staff supposed to believe in me?” he asked softly. Sarah buried her face in her glass of wine, and Clara winced reflexively. Oh, you poor boy. That’s not exactly what you were hoping for.  
  
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she started, “but that kind of automatic trust has to be earned. You sometimes tend to get buried down in the analytics and don’t see the forest for the trees. You also haven’t usually been in command for these simulations.”  
  
“Well, we’re graduating in two months,” Raj replied testily. “I don’t exactly have the option of building up that experience in time to do it over.”  
  
“Then give us the next best thing. If you’re the captain, and we’re your senior staff, give us some information. If you can’t tell us everything, give us enough to know there’s some purpose behind your orders when they seem unconventional. And I know you’re going to hate hearing this, but if you want to convince everyone to follow you, you’ll have to convince Rick.”  
  
Stifling a grimace, Raj set his napkin down on the table and rose from his chair. “You’re right,” he said.  
  
“About earning our trust?” she asked hopefully.  
  
“About not wanting to hear it,” he muttered and made his way for the door.


	16. Chapter 16

Jeremy stepped back out onto the bridge, followed closely by David. As the door to the ready room closed behind them, a couple of ensigns looked up from their stations. Even without looking in their direction, Jeremy could feel their eyes on him as he resumed his seat in the captain’s chair. None of them, however, paid any attention to the helmsman as he made his way back to his post. _It’s like they knew I was the one getting chewed out in there_. He glanced at one of the young ensigns stationed at the computer panels behind the command area. She held his gaze for an uncomfortable moment before turning her attention back to her work. _Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Charades it is._  
  
Picking up his head, Jeremy walked confidently over to the captain’s chair and sat down. He turned his attention to the ops station where Renetta had yet to move a muscle.  
  
“Miss Benson,” he said, picking up a PADD off the arm of the chair, turning it on, and opening up a display of the ship’s diagnostics. “What do we know about the anomaly? Is it still where we last left it?”  
  
“It hasn’t moved, sir, but it’s difficult to get a read on, even though it’s stationary.”  
  
He furrowed his brow. “Well, what have you been able to determine?”  
  
“Not much beyond the fact that it’s some kind of spatial anomaly, sir. I’m still waiting for the full-spectrum analysis results to compile.”  
  
 _At least someone here has a sense of initiative_. “Good work, Miss Benson.” Jeremy turned around and looked behind him. “Ensign… Kase, wasn’t it?”  
  
The stern-faced ensign at the computer station turned her head and gave Jeremy an unimpressed look. “Yes?”  
  
“Analyze the subspace surrounding the anomaly and check for any patterns in the gravimetric distortions that could explain its ability to follow us or what its nature is. Our best guess right now is a wormhole, and I’d like to have a more specific explanation.”  
  
“If we already suspect that it has something to do with the alien probe, shouldn’t we start with a cross-analysis of our current readings on it and the anomaly?” Ensign Kase’s tone was as flat as her expression.  
  
Jeremy remained aloof as he tapped his combadge. “Bridge to Ensign Dansville, how are those readings coming on the probe?”  
  
 _“We haven’t managed to get much information on what it’s doing other than it poses no apparent risk to the affected crewmembers.”_  
  
“That’s good to hear, Ensign. Naazt, have you taken any readings on the probe itself aside from its effects on the senior staff?”  
  
 _“Of course I have. You should know I’m not one to let something like this fall into my cargo bay without a complete inspection.”_  
  
Ensign Kase smirked.  
  
“Naazt, send those scan results up to the bridge.”  
  
 _“Can do.”_  
  
Jeremy turned his full attention back to Ensign Kase who was wearing a rather haughty expression. “Once those results reach your station, there should be nothing keeping you from connecting the dots aside from your own aptitude.” Fresh data blinked to life along the side of her screen. “I expect an update in half an hour or less.” As he turned his back to her, Jeremy noticed the defiant gleam in her eye dim as disapproval took its place. He paused and turned his head a few degrees in her direction. “Is that understood, Ensign?”  
  
“Yes,” she grumbled. Jeremy turned further and regarded her with an expectant look. “Yes, _sir_ ,” she said in a clipped tone.  
  
Jeremy put on a condescendingly charming smile before turning away and continuing over to the ops station. He put a hand on the back of Renetta’s chair and peered over her shoulder at her computer display. “Alright, Ensign, show me what you’ve got.”  
  
“Well, scan results are still being processed, but this is what we have so far.” She selected a handful of items on the screen and triggered a cascade of information. As Jeremy read, she began summarizing. “As far as I can tell, this is some kind of wormhole, but without further gravimetric or subspace readings, I can’t confirm much else.”  
  
“You sound like you have a hunch,” Jeremy noted, still reading the results as they scrolled across the screen.  
  
“I do, but it’s about sixty percent conjecture.”  
  
“Let me hear it.”  
  
“Well, I think the wormhole is somehow tethered to the probe. As long as we have it, the anomaly will follow us,” Renetta paused and turned in her chair to face Jeremy. “I mean, I think that’s the case. I don’t really have much to back that hypothesis at the moment though.”  
  
“What do you have to support it then?”  
  
“For starters, all the scans I’ve seen so far imply that the anomaly isn’t native to this area of space. It’s like someone just stuck it here. Most wormholes leave some kind of scarring on the area where they appear, but the footprint this one leaves behind doesn’t seem to match the anomaly’s measurable parameters. Then there’s the fact that it appeared shortly after we encountered the probe and the fact that it came after us when we started to take the probe away.” Renetta turned back to her station and pulled up scan results from earlier. “Most importantly, we have the collapse of the warp bubble from earlier. When we fled the anomaly and went to warp, our field dissipated and the source appeared to be somewhere on this ship.” She looked between Jeremy and David, who was listening intently from the adjacent helm station. “I know it’s just a hunch, but it’s the best I’ve got to offer right now.”  
  
The Ops readout suddenly illuminated with flashing red lights. Before Jeremy could ask what was going on, Renetta’s fingers were already flying across the display, digging into the problem. “Sir, it’s moving again.”  
  
“Give me visual on the main viewer.”  
  
The front display flicked on to show an enhanced image of the anomaly as it rippled and churned the space around it. Slowly but surely, it appeared to be growing larger.  
  
“Ensign Brahms, match the anomaly’s speed in the opposite direction.” Jeremy began walking back to the captain’s chair. “Ensign Kase, tell me about the anomaly’s graviton emissions.”  
  
“They’re gravitons, sir,” she informed him with the verbal equivalent of an exasperated eye-roll. “What else is there to tell you?”  
  
“Don’t be cheeky,” he snapped, changing course for her station. “Give me a heading, an intensity, anything that we might be able to use to counter it.”  
  
The young science officer pulled up the results of her gravimetric scans and stepped aside. Jeremy paused for the briefest moment to glare disapprovingly at her before stepping in to look over the readings. “If we recalibrate the deflector dish to match the anomaly’s graviton output, we might be able to hold it off for a little longer.”  
  
“Is that an order?” Ensign Kase asked impertinently, looming beside him as he hunched over the display, her arms folded across her chest.  
  
Jeremy stood up straight and matched her posture, towering several inches above her. “Yes. Yes it is.”


	17. Chapter 17

Clara opened her eyes to nothing but darkness. A steady, suffocating pressure bore down on her from all sides, and she began to panic at the realization she could not move herself away from it. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she began to understand why she felt so trapped. Jessica was pinned under the collapsed debris from at least one floor of the Sanctuary tower, along with the Starfleet officer who’d come to apprehend her. She turned herself around to survey the area, but other than a vague sense of what was up and what was down, she was lost in the debris along with the others.  
  
A coughing sound attracted Clara’s attention, and she located the Starfleet officer, Beldon, trying to pry a support pillar away from his chest. Jessica was lying under more debris no more than two meters away. Beldon reached for his combadge, only to find it missing.  
  
“Just wonderful,” he muttered. “If you were going to bring the roof down on us, you could have at least let me call for a beam-out.”  
  
Jessica’s first attempt at a reply was cut off by a violent coughing fit. She glared in his direction and spat out a thick mixture of phlegm and blood. “Go to hell, Starfleet,” she managed weakly.  
  
“You have an astounding amount of hatred for someone you’ve never met,” Beldon replied, grunting as he finally heaved the pillar off of his chest and onto the pile of rubble to his left. He lay there for a while, his chest rising and falling unsteadily as he tried to catch his breath and determine the severity of his injuries. Just from the breathing pattern, Clara could tell he’d broken at least one rib, and further exertion was likely to cause significant internal damage.  
  
“And what do you care how I feel?” Jessica pulled a shard of glass from her leg and stifled a scream by biting down on the sleeve of her tattered shirt.  
  
“That sounded bad, girl. How hurt are you?”  
  
“Not enough to stop me, if that’s what you were hoping,” she spat. For all her recklessness, Clara was impressed by the young woman’s fortitude and aptitude for hasty first-aid. In the short time since coming to, she’d identified her worst injuries and tightly wrapped the deep cut in her leg with a long strip of cloth torn from her shirt. It wouldn’t do much, but depending on how long it took them to reach real medical help, it could be the difference between life and death. _And I suppose since this all happened a decade ago,_ Clara reminded herself, _it turned out alright for her._  
  
“In case you hadn’t noticed, neither of us are in much of a position to stop anyone,” Beldon said. “If one of us can find my communicator, we can send for help.”  
  
“Then what? You lock me up in a prison somewhere? I think I’ll take my chances.”  
  
The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes while they took in their surroundings and looked for any avenues of escape. Failing to move the rubble pinning him, Beldon took hold of a large beam currently resting on his left leg.  
  
“I can’t move, but if you can lift this just a hair, I think I can get my leg free. Once I can move, I can try to help you.”  
  
Jessica scowled. “Why would you help me? You don’t care about me. You don’t even know me.”  
  
“Fine then,” Beldon said, clenching his fists in frustration. “Let’s start with names. I’ve told you mine, why don’t you share yours?”  
  
“I’m Jessica,” the woman said after a short pause.  
  
Despite what must have been incredible pain, Beldon smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Jessica. Though I admit I wish the circumstances were a bit different. Any chance you want to share why you’re trying to blow up this building?”  
  
“So we can keep parasites like you off of our planet,” she spat.  
  
The man sighed. “What is it you have against aliens, Jessica? Don’t all good people have a right to a home?”  
  
“Sure they do. Just not on my planet, taking those homes away from humans on Earth.”  
  
“Jessica, no one is taking homes away from people on Earth to house refugees. There _are_ no homeless on Earth anymore, and this was an empty lot before construction started.”  
  
“Tell that to my mother.” Jessica’s voice was cold and hardened now, detached only because the rubble had her pinned and separated from the Starfleet man. “When my father died, the city officials told her she was too sick to maintain our home by herself. They took her housing permit away and turned a home that had been ours for generations into just another empty lot. We were moved into an apartment next to people we didn’t know, and they built new apartments for aliens where my childhood home once stood.”  
  
This time, Beldon paused not for effect, but to take in her words. “I’m sorry,” he said after an uncomfortable silence. “A mentor of mine once told me that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. That still doesn’t make it easy to hear a story like yours. Your mother, does she still live in that apartment now?”  
  
“She’s dead,” Jessica replied.  
  
“And Terra Prime took you in?” Beldon was getting back to the point now, Clara knew, but from the look on Jessica’s face, the younger woman had given up resisting.  
  
“How do you know about them?” she asked meekly, her voice now a resigned whisper.  
  
“It took some digging,” the man replied, “but once I knew you were after the Sanctuary tower, it didn’t take long to track you back to Maxson and his gang. I’m not surprised he wanted to bring the tower down on the people he wants to hurt. It fits his profile.”  
  
Jessica didn’t speak. Instead, she leaned over and pushed against the beam pinning Commander Beldon’s leg, ever so slowly lifting it until it the pressure was gone, and he gingerly pulled his leg in. Once he was clear, she dropped the beam with a loud clatter and coughed violently.  
  
“Thank you,” Beldon said with a heavy breath. He pulled himself to his feet, still crouching low to avoid the jagged edges of the rubble above him, and began to pull at a section of piping. As he pulled it loose, more of the wreckage loosened, and a dust-covered Starfleet combadge appeared. Jessica picked it up carefully before looking back at the man still separated from her by a pile of debris.  
  
“What do you mean it fits his profile?” she asked, still wary of the officer.  
  
“I mean he’s dangerous,” the Trill said. “He’s been killing for years now, and Starfleet hasn’t been able to stop him. He’s charismatic and good at rallying others to his cause, but he’s left a trail of death behind him everywhere he’s gone. I’ve studied his case, Jessica. It won’t be enough for him to bring down this tower. He’s going to bring it down on innocent people. You don’t want to be a part of that.”  
  
Jessica stared at Beldon defiantly, even with tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t want to believe you,” she croaked, before coughing up blood yet again.  
  
“I know,” the man replied, “but you’re going to have to trust me. Give me the badge, and I’ll get us out of here. We’ll get you patched up, and take things one at a time from there.”  
  
Slowly, painfully, she nodded and reached out toward the Trill. Beldon took the badge from her outstretched hand, affixed it to his tattered uniform, and tapped it once.  
  
“This is Commander Tristor Beldon. I’m trapped in the Houston Sanctuary Tower. There’s been an explosion, and there may be more people trapped inside. Two for emergency medical beamout.”  
  
A blue light engulfed the pair, and Clara once again felt herself being pulled away.


	18. Chapter 18

This time, when Clara came to, she found herself in a familiar environment of stark walls, tasteful potted greenery, and the sharp, familiar smell of hospital disinfectant. The waiting room was small by her standards. Wherever they were, it was not a major hospital. Still, it was the closest Clara had felt to “home” since setting sail for the stars. She wandered over to the reception desk and peered over at the papers strewn about. To her disappointment, and to a lesser extent, surprise, they were covered with scrawling scribbles, without a word in sight.  
  
The comfortingly sterile environment had so thoroughly distracted her, Clara jumped when a young girl erupted with frustration on the far side of the waiting room.  
  
“I can’t stand waiting out here!” A girl boasting a very familiar shock of red hair thrust herself from the neat row of chairs and threw her arms up in exasperation as she began pacing the length of the aisle. “They’ve been back there for ages. There’s no way they don’t have some kind of news for us by now.”  
  
The man occupying the chair next to where she’d been sitting calmly got to his feet. Worry lined his face, but his voice was soft and even. “Shan, I know it’s hard, but we need to be patient.”  
  
“How can I be patient? You saw him, he wasn’t moving!” Shannon crossed her arms, her wiry frame lending her the appearance of a stick figure more than a human being.  
  
Her father opened his mouth to undoubtedly offer more words of encouragement when a nurse opened the door into the waiting room. The two of them dropped the conversation immediately and gave the nurse their full attention.  
  
“Miss O’Malley, your mother has requested that we run a few tests.”  
  
Shannon gestured stupidly to herself, confused. “On me?” She looked to her father, whose face bore a similar expression. “Why me?”  
  
Her mother appeared in the doorway behind the older nurse, escorted by a second member of the infirmary staff. “Nurse Craine will explain it to you, Shan. It’s almost surely nothing.”  
  
 _Well, that’s one way to make someone anxious_ , Clara thought as Shannon’s mother shuffled into the room, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.  
  
With another series of uncertain glances around the room, Shannon proceeded, alone, toward the waiting nurses. Clara hung back, trying to catch what her parents had begun discussing as their daughter left the room. No matter how close she got to them, their muttering remained indistinct, and as the room began to dissolve around her, Clara hurried through the door and down the hall after Shannon.  
  
“Is Liam okay?” she asked one of the nurses as they walked down the long, featureless corridor.  
  
“He’s unconscious at the moment,” the younger of the two nurses responded, “but he’s breathing and he appears to be doing well enough given what he’s been through.”  
  
“I thought he just fell down an embankment.” Shannon shook her head. “I know I’ve seen him do worse.”  
  
The silence following her statement was just a fraction too long. Clara had a sinking feeling about where this conversation was headed.  
  
“Miss O’Malley--” the same nurse began before she was interrupted.  
  
“Can you please just call me Shannon?”  
  
“Shannon, then,” she resumed, “when your brother fell, he severed part of his spinal column. That injury has left him paralyzed.”  
  
The wiry young redhead stopped dead in her tracks. For a moment, Clara thought she saw the girl turn a shade paler and swore she was headed for the floor. Shannon braced herself against the wall with a shaking hand. “He--” her words halted and started again as she fished for the right ones. “He can’t walk…?”  
  
“I’m afraid not, nor can he move his arms.”  
  
“What about his head? Will he wake up? Can he talk? Will he remember who I am?” As Shannon’s words began tumbling out, Clara moved around to stand with the older nurse as the younger one stepped in to comfort the terrified young girl. Doctor Dupont glanced at the stoic older nurse and raised an eyebrow. _Your bedside manner certainly leaves something to be desired._  
  
The younger nurse resumed, her tone gentle and reassuring. “From what we can tell, he should wake up on his own and be just as you remember him from the shoulders up.”  
  
Shannon maintained her firm grip on the railing protruding from the wall, her expression clearing slowly as she began to process everything. “But, I don’t get it. What does this have to do with me? Why do I need tests?”  
  
“When we looked to see what the fall had done to your brother, we noticed a…” The younger nurse paused for a moment. Her expression was one Clara had seen many times as new nurses struggled to rephrase medical diagnoses for children. Shannon looked more impatient than she did appreciative of the consideration, and the older nurse finally spoke up.  
  
“I am certain she’s old enough that she doesn’t need a translation, Shea.” The older nurse brushed her sleek black and gray hair behind one ear, revealing slightly pointed lobes. “Some humans are born with a set of brain and spinal cord deformities that typically pose no threat unless something like this happens. Murphy’s Syndrome also has a genetic component.”  
  
“Meaning that I might also have it,” Shannon finished.  
  
The older nurse nodded with no change in her expression. “Precisely.”  
  
The trio resumed their course down the hallway, turning into an exam room several doors down from where they’d stopped. Once inside the exam room, there was little small talk, and within minutes, they were back on their way toward the waiting room, with the younger nurse escorting Shannon in contemplative silence.  
  
In the waiting room, Shannon’s parents were seated on a double-wide chair in the corner of the room, talking quietly to one another. When the door opened and the three of them stepped through, they stood up and welcomed their daughter into a family embrace. Whether or not they heard the young nurse tell them it would only be a few more minutes was difficult to say. Although every ounce of Clara’s professional training told her to give the family their space, she reminded herself that she was little more than a ghost in this moment. Reluctantly, she walked over to stand beside Shannon and her parents.  
  
“Why can’t they just fix it?” Shannon was asking quietly, tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
“The doctor said it’s too dangerous,” her mother answered. “Normally, it would be a simple procedure, but with how Liam’s body is, they said it would be too much of a risk.”  
  
“But they could do it?”  
  
“We don’t know, Shan,” her father said.  
  
“But they’ve been stitching spinal cord injuries for decades now, haven’t they? Why can’t they just, I don’t know, put Liam back together?” Shannon’s words were almost incoherent at this point between the sniffles and sobs. Her parents shared a helpless look and held their daughter tightly.  
  
Several minutes later, the senior nurse appeared in the doorway. The family circle opened, and the three of them held hands. “Your daughter shows the physical markers for Murphy’s Syndrome. They are mild, and her risk for complications is low. No major lifestyle changes should be necessary, though it is recommended that she avoid activities that could put her at risk for spinal injuries.”  
  
After a moment’s pause, Shannon’s parents thanked the nurse and the room began to dim at the outer edges as the scene slowly faded. Clara had a moment to herself as the technicolor unconscious surrounded her to stew in the events she’d just seen. She only vaguely remembered seeing Murphy’s Syndrome marked on the XO’s medical files, but this was only the second time she had experienced a diagnosis “in person,” as much as that description fit what she had just been through. It was far less common than its cousin ailment, which had been studied exhaustively in the 21st century, ultimately culminating in a reparative surgery with a near-perfect success rate. This new syndrome had proven far more difficult to study and treat, and Clara was grateful she had not been the one to give the diagnosis.  
  
As a new setting began to resolve, around her, Clara had a fleeting thought about the Commander’s sparring session with her Chief of Security. A flood of emotions and opinions began to rise up within her, but she pushed them aside. _Now is hardly the time to think about such things._


	19. Chapter 19

This time, Clara found herself seated on a wooden bench just outside a brick building on the corner of a street, presumably on Earth. It was late in the evening, judging from the stars visible through a clear night sky, the view marred slightly by the bright lights coming from the nearby street and the building’s windows. Hanging over the door was a blue neon sign, with a pair of wings framing the name of the establishment, the “602 Club”. She wasn’t familiar with the name, but bars weren’t exactly her area of expertise.  
  
It didn’t take long for Raj, still dressed as he had been for his dinner with Sarah, to arrive. Clara followed him inside, and the relative peace of the street was washed away by the sound of loud music, laughter, and the crack of billiards balls. Inside the bar, dozens of young men and women, most in Starfleet cadet uniforms, chatted around small tables. The walls were decorated with images right out of a history book on Earth’s early spaceflight era, from pictures of the first manned spacecraft and early interstellar vehicles to patches from the first Moon and Mars landing missions. Raj stopped almost reverently to view a picture of Starfleet’s prototype Warp 5 vessel, the _Enterprise NX-01_ , and Clara could faintly make out the signature of its commanding officer and future Federation President, Jonathan Archer.  
  
The bartender, a gangly Rigelian, tried to get Raj's attention as he passed by, but the young man simply ignored him. He made his way to the pool tables, where a small group was immersed in a game, including Rick and the Tellarite, Skars, who in the middle of a hasty explanation.  
  
“-if you aim three degrees off from the eight ball, you can sink the two and the three in one shot!”  
  
Rick was ignoring the Tellarite despite his vigorous gesturing. “Maybe I can, but I’d rather not miss and pocket the eight. I’m going to play this one safe.”  
  
“Is that what you were doing when you fouled up our simulator run this morning?” Raj asked, leaning against the table to get Rick’s attention. The taller man turned and sighed heavily.  
  
“What’re you doing here, Raj?” His voice was calm, but his face showed nothing but contempt.  
  
“I wanted to talk to you,” Raj replied, his voice level and firm, closer to the Raj Clara knew now than the one she saw in front of her.  
  
“I thought I said everything I had to say this morning,” the other man said, setting his pool cue down on the table.  
  
“Rick, it is your turn to shoot,” Skars interjected, as oblivious to the conversation’s tone.  
  
“I know you disagreed with me earlier,” Raj continued, “but if I’m in command, which I will be when we retake the simulation tomorrow, I need you to listen to me, and to trust me.”  
  
Rick stood up straight, looming over Raj like a schoolyard bully intimidating his prey. “And why the hell should I do that? I don’t have to take orders from you. I’m on track for a command role, and you’re just a pilot. I know the instructor put you in command for this test, but maybe that was just to prove how unsuited you are for the job.”  
  
Raj squared up to the other cadet, despite the difference in height, and met his gaze. “Rick, I know you don’t like me. Frankly, I don’t like you either, but that doesn’t mean anything when we have a job to do. I don’t _need_ you to like me, just to follow my orders when I say they’re final. And if both of us are lucky, tomorrow morning is the last time we’ll ever have to share a bridge.”  
  
Rick shook his head. “Why should I bother? You want to know why nobody follows your decisions, Raj? It’s because they don’t think they _can_ trust you. You’re not confident. You’re not in control. You’ve never in your life taken the initiative to-”  
  
Raj’s fist connected with Rick’s nose and Clara watched a spray of blood spatter onto the green felt of the pool table. Even Skars stopped talking as the conversations throughout the bar paused to witness the inevitable fight. The bartender shook his head in frustration, but the remaining cadets formed a circle around the two combatants as Rick shoved Raj backward and went on an attack of his own.  
  
Clara’s experience in treating injuries from similar displays of testosterone-fueled ignorance had taught her a few things about fighting, namely that height and reach put larger fighters at a significant advantage. Quickness and stronger technique could overcome a disadvantage in size, but Raj did not appear to have that level of talent. Blow after blow from the larger man landed, and Raj bounced around the circle much like the balls on the table had been minutes earlier. He did manage to put up a fight, though, landing body blows and a glancing hit to Rick’s chin that left him bleeding as he bit his own tongue.  
  
Rick roared back at the smaller man and lunged forward, grabbing Raj in a bear hug and tackling him to the ground. The two rolled over each other, continuing to fight by any means necessary, and Raj slammed his head into his opponent’s, forcing them both to pause as they recovered from the impact. While the crowd cheered them on, a woman’s voice shouted desperately over them.  
  
“Stop, please! Raj, Rick, get a hold of yourselves!” The crowd parted as Sarah fought her way to the two men, glaring at both of them.  
  
“What do you think our instructors are going to say when they see you like this?” she asked, as a pair of bystanders helped to pull the men apart. “And you,” she said, pointing a finger at Skars, “should have been the first one to stop them. Don’t just stand around and watch!”  
  
As the blonde cadet turned back to Raj and Rick, Clara was expecting an argument or another fight, but to both women’s surprise, the two men were laughing.  
  
Rick, his mouth dripping blood, spoke first. “Damn Raj, where did that come from? I didn’t think you had it in you.”  
  
“I should’ve done that a year ago,” Raj said between fits of laughter of his own. “You can be a total dick, you know that? But you were right about what you said earlier.”  
  
Rick took a wad of tissues from one of the cadets in the crowd and plugged his bleeding nose. “Maybe you were right, too. But you’ve got to explain some of it first. You want me to trust you, you’ve got to give me something first.”  
  
Raj sighed reluctantly and then gave a smile. “How about we get out of here before someone official shows up and busts us all down to year one again, and then we can talk about it over a drink?”


	20. Chapter 20

Jeremy paced between the helm and ops stations, his hands clasped behind his back as he picked anxiously at his cuticles. He felt more confident after the talk with his helmsman, but feeling and being, he knew, were two very different things.  
  
“Sir, the anomaly is closing in,” Renetta announced.  
  
He halted his pacing route to glance up at the viewscreen, where he watched as the enhanced image of the distortion approached the ship. Even with the additional information from Ensign Kase’s analysis, he couldn’t come up with a solution in which he had total confidence. His gut told him that the deflector approach was likely the best option, but he wouldn’t know for sure that it would work until they gave it a try. _I guess it really is a game of face_ , he thought to himself as he took a deep breath to soothe his nerves.  
  
“Ensign Brahms, keep us trained on that anomaly. Ensign Kase, fire up the deflector dish and match the graviton emissions.” Despite his nagging feelings of uncertainty, Jeremy maintained a confident and authoritative tone, and as far as he could tell, the charade had worked. Ensign Kase nodded affirmatively to her orders and set to work with no additional protest as David brought the ship around to face the anomaly head-on.  
  
A moment after his orders had been given, everyone on the Bridge was diligently working at their stations, and a gentle shudder hummed through the ship’s hull as the deflector dish countered the anomaly’s output with a steady stream of gravitons. Jeremy resumed his pacing route, his hands once again clasped behind his back, assessing the workstation screens as he passed by them. After a few minutes of tense but busy silence, Renetta spoke up.  
  
“Sir, the anomaly’s graviton emissions appear to be dropping.”  
  
Jeremy made his way over to her screen and peered at the numbers ticking up at regular intervals from the bottom of a feed at the center of her display. Sure enough, the readouts were showing a decrease in particle emissions from whatever was out there.  
  
“Ensign Kase,” he said, standing up, “decrease our output by eight percent.”  
  
“Aye, sir,” she said, her tone crisp and formal. Any outward signs of disapproval that had been on display for him earlier had faded into the background. Jeremy doubted that Ensign Kase had been so thoroughly swayed by his intimidation tactics earlier, but it had worked well enough to get them through the rest of this encounter without any further insubordination, it seemed.  
  
The numbers continued to drop on the Ops readout. Jeremy watched quietly from behind Renetta. _This seems too simple_ , he thought, turning to resume his ambulatory route around the Bridge.  
  
“Sir,” Renetta called out again after he’d taken a few steps. “The gravitons are holding steady.” Jeremy turned and walked back to her station as she pointed at the last half dozen readings on her screen. “I’m not sure why, but they’ve stopped decreasing.”  
  
The Lieutenant furrowed his thick brows and scratched his beard pensively. “Ensign Kase,” he said, pausing to silently rehash his train of thought before committing to it. “Bring the deflector’s output back up to its original level, but do it slowly.”  
  
“How slowly... _sir_?” Jeremy noted the familiar twinge of asperity in her voice as she asked for specifics and almost had to stifle a chuckle.  
  
“One percent every five seconds. Be prepared to stop on my mark.”  
  
“Aye.”  
  
Jeremy watched Renetta’s screen intently, counting out the elapsed time in five-second intervals, his frown deepening as the numbers refused to budge. Thirty seconds, then a minute, then a minute and a half went by, and still, there was no change.  
  
“Kase, continue increasing our output at the same rate. Ensign Brahms, bring _Babel_ in toward the anomaly at low impulse.”  
  
David turned around in his seat. “Sir, I’m not sure that’s advisable. We don’t know what this thing is or what it’s capable of.”  
  
“That’s true, we have no idea what it is, where it came from, or what it can do, but we do know that it’s stopped responding to our graviton emissions.”  
  
“What if it starts pursuing us again?” David gave Jeremy a challenging look that did little to hide the concern in his voice.  
  
Lieutenant Caldwell stood up straight and folded his arms across his chest. “Then, as the skilled helmsman you are, I expect you’ll be able to outmaneuver it and take us to a safe distance.” He glanced out the front viewer before returning his attention to David. “Move us toward the anomaly at low impulse, Ensign.”  
  
Renetta coughed quietly in the brief silence that followed before David turned back to his station and set the ship in motion. Once they’d set an easy course for the anomaly, Jeremy returned his attention to the Ops readout. Still, the numbers weren’t budging.  
  
“Ensign Benson,” Jeremy began, grateful at that moment no one could see the tiny smirk that had flashed across his face. _We really ought to get her promoted_ , he thought, waving away the anxiety-induced non-sequitur. He cleared his throat. “Is there any chance that the anomaly might not be giving off a steady stream of gravitons?”  
  
“You mean what if it’s emitting them in pulses?” she clarified.  
  
“Yes. Is there any way we could have missed that?”  
  
“Well, potentially. As far as we could tell, it at least initially was emitting them at a constant rate, but after we interfered, there’s no saying it couldn’t have changed.”  
  
“I want you to run another scan on the anomaly and tell me whether or not it’s changed.”  
  
The small, dark-haired woman nodded. “Aye, sir.”  
  
Renetta immediately set to work on running a series of side-by-side scans on the anomaly as they held course toward it, the ongoing readout at the bottom of her screen continuing to tick out the same data every few seconds. Once again, just as Jeremy began to walk away, the young quantum theorist called out again.  
  
“You were right, the scans picked up a change in the emission patterns from the anomaly. It’s sending out pulses at regular intervals now.”  
  
“Send your data over to Kase’s terminal and the two of you work together to match the frequency and intensity of the gravitons.” Feeling bolstered by his confirmed hunch, Jeremy walked back to the Captain’s Chair and took a seat. “Run another series of scans every sixty seconds and modify our deflector settings accordingly. Ensign Brahms, continue to hold course. The last thing we want is to lose track of this anomaly, whatever it is.”  
  
After another round of affirmatives, Jeremy let his crew work as he watched the situation before him. _Babel_ crept ever closer to the anomaly, which, despite their approach, did not appear to be growing in size. Ensigns Kase and Benson made constant alterations at their stations, pushing data to one another and modifying the deflector dish while reviewing scan data. _This might actually work_ , Jeremy thought with a tentative air of satisfaction.  
  
“Sir, the anomaly is steadily shrinking,” Renetta announced after several minutes. “At this rate, it ought to be completely dissipated in about three and a half minutes.”  
  
“Excellent,” he acknowledged.  
  
Over the course of the following minutes, the disturbance outside the main viewer appeared unchanged. With less than sixty seconds left to Renetta’s time estimate, the distortion faded from view. Just as relief was settling over the crew, the ship lurched, sending everyone on the Bridge off balance.  
  
“Benson, what was that?” the Lieutenant snapped.  
  
Renetta, startled, turned around in her chair. “I didn’t have a scan running to catch it, sir, but I believe it was a gravity wave. The anomaly is gone.”  
  
Jeremy let out a quiet sigh. _Thank god_. “Ensign Brahms, full stop. Any change in the interference to the warp field coming from the probe?”  
  
Kase typed away at her console and shook her head. “No sir, it looks like the probe’s actions weren’t connected to the anomaly. If anything, I’d guess the anomaly was the source of the damage to the probe.”  
  
Jeremy nodded. “We’re out of danger for now, at least. Well done, everyone.”


	21. Chapter 21

Clara watched as Jessica, now clad in an orange jumpsuit, shoveled unappealing food from a plastic tray into her mouth. She was seated at a long table, separate from the group of other orange-clad humanoids in the prison cafeteria. She’d been here for nearly a month, a piece of knowledge Clara seemed to have absorbed as she transitioned from one memory to the next. _It feels like the longer I’m here, the more control I have... and the harder it is to tell this from reality. I need to find a way out of here soon._  
  
“Prisoner 531!” barked the deep baritone of one of the guards at the door. Jessica looked up irritably and shouted back at the man.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“You have a visitor.”  
  
“I do?”  
  
Jessica faltered, dropping her tough act for a moment before rising from her seat. As she crossed the cafeteria, all conversations between the other inmates stopped as they turned to watch her go. The guard eyed her cautiously, his hand resting on the phaser at his hip as she approached. He jerked his head toward the doorway, and she walked into the hallway with the man close behind.  
  
“Third door on the right,” the man snapped. “And make it quick.”  
  
“What’s your problem?” Jessica muttered as she continued down the hall.  
  
“I don’t take kindly to bigots,” the guard replied. Jessica turned to snap back at the guard until she noticed the faint but distinct ridge on his forehead. She shook her head and looked down at the floor.  
  
“It wasn’t like that. It was never supposed to be about us being better than you. It was about keeping our homes.”  
  
“I don’t want to hear it. You got caught, and now you’ll say whatever you think will get you out. But Starfleet’s here to interrogate you now, and I’ll be here to throw you in your cell when they’re finished with you. If I were you, I’d do what they tell you to, because they don’t screw around with people like you.”  
  
Clara followed the wide-eyed woman as she shuffled into the interrogation room. The Federation was far more ethical in the treatment of criminals and prisoners than the Earth governments that preceded it, but the room still couldn’t be considered inviting by any stretch of the imagination. A simple table sat in the center of the room, with a chair on either side. Taking the implied cue, Jessica sat down in the chair on her side of the table and waited as the door closed behind her. Moments later the door opposite her opened to admit a familiar man in a red Starfleet uniform.  
  
“Hello, Jessica. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”  
  
Commander Beldon, the Trill that had tracked her down and captured her a month earlier, set a PADD down on the table as he took his seat with ease. He studied her in silence as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, before nodding to himself and scrolling through the file on the device.  
  
“Jessica Barnes, born in Houston, Texas, Earth on the seventeenth of April, twenty-three forty-three, eighteen years of age as of yesterday. Happy birthday, by the way. Facing charges of assault, arson, attempted homicide, assault on a Starfleet officer, terrorism, and of course, trespassing.” Beldon counted each charge on his fingers, ending with a dramatic flair, and raised an eyebrow at Jessica from across the table. “Things don’t exactly look good for you.”  
  
Jessica ran her hands through her hair and stared down at the table. “I already told you everything I know. I didn’t mean for things to end up like this.”  
  
Beldon softened his tone, and when he spoke, Clara was surprised at the warmth and empathy in his voice. “I know. You’re not the first one to get wrapped up in Maxson’s hateful crusade. He’s cunning, charismatic, and manipulative. He says exactly what he knows you need to hear, and gives you exactly what he knows you want, slowly bringing you around to his side until you’re in so deep you have nowhere else to go. He’s turned several well-meaning people into criminals, but thanks to your help, you’ll be the last.”  
  
Jessica’s head snapped up at the Trill’s words. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean,” he said with a soft smile, “we got him. Between your report and the testimony of the others on your team that night, we got enough information to track him down and arrest him, just as he was trying to take a shuttle off-world.”  
  
“My team...” Jessica’s face paled. “Tell me they’re alright. They’re good people, too.”  
  
Beldon frowned. “They’re fine, we have them in custody. Though I don’t know about your assessment of their character. They were content to serve out long prison sentences until they heard we had you, but in the end, I promised them we’d go easy on you if they gave up what they knew. You have a knack for inspiring others to follow you, despite your age, Jessica.”  
  
“Thanks, I’m sure your praise will go a long way for me while I rot in here,” she grumbled.  
  
“It doesn’t have to, you know.”  
  
“I’m not sure I understand.”  
  
Beldon cleared Jessica’s file from his screen and started typing in a query. “You have quite the list of charges, but everything you did was at the behest of a much more dangerous person that you helped us bring in. That, plus a willingness to acknowledge and atone for what you’ve done, will go a long way in helping me get your record sealed. Technically, you haven’t committed a crime as an adult, which gives you a unique opportunity.”  
  
Jessica began fidgeting anxiously with her hands at the mention of any chance to avoid the fate that seemed so certain to her. “What... what did you have in mind?”  
  
“Starfleet.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I want you to join Starfleet, Jessica.”  
  
“Bullshit. There’s no way they’d take me. And what makes you think I’d last a minute there?”  
  
“You’re smart, talented, and have more field experience than almost any other applicant, even if it isn’t usually the kind that gets you a recommendation. You have a strong background in engineering, tactics, and hand to hand combat, you’re good with a phaser, and you have a natural aptitude for leading people through dangerous situations. When I pressured you and presented the facts after I brought you in, you followed your gut and did the right thing, focusing first on bringing the true criminal to justice, and then on looking out for your people, even at the cost of your own status and freedom.”  
  
“But I _am_ a criminal,” Jessica said through tears and clenched fists. “You said so yourself. Why should anything else matter anymore?”  
  
“Because I believe good people can be made to do bad things with bad information, and because I believe that people can always change. And I’m willing to stake my career on it. All you have to do is sign.”  
  
He passed the PADD to Jessica, and Clara looked over the woman’s shoulder to see a Starfleet Academy application form, filled out completely except for the signature at the bottom. Commander Beldon’s name was on the form as well, as a character reference and application sponsor. Jessica’s hand shook as she read over the form.  
  
“There’s no way they’d accept this,” she stammered as she scrawled an awkward signature across the screen.  
  
“I’ve spoken with the head of admissions already. She’s willing to give you a try, though consider it more like your probation. You’ll have a staff member observing you at almost all hours for your first year, with regular checkups for the remainder of your time at the Academy. You’ll be held to a standard of rigor above the normal cutoff, and if you flunk out, you’ll have plenty of time back here to think over what happened. If that’s not enough, you’ll be taking extra coursework, since I have you signed up for the Command track.”  
  
Jessica’s jaw dropped. “Command? After all of this? Why?”  
  
Clara felt herself begin to shift once more, and her vision blurred, but she could still make out the officer’s final words as she drifted away.  
  
 _“It’s where you belong, Jessica.”_


	22. Chapter 22

A familiar scent from earlier in Clara’s journey registered with her senses before any imagery appeared: Salty air. Based on how she seemed to be progressing, the doctor assumed she was heading once again for the memories of Commander O’Malley. As the scene materialized around her, Clara’s suspicions were confirmed. They were back at the small cabin at the edge of the sea. Through an open window, Clara could hear the waves crashing far below and the gentle breeze rolling across the plains.  
  
“Mum, you can’t possibly be serious,” Shannon pleaded over a cup of coffee. The Commander was now a young woman, her wild red mane tamed in a tight braid and her lanky frame beginning to fill out. “You know I’ve wanted to join Starfleet since before I was old enough to understand what it was.”  
  
“And that’s precisely my concern,” her mother responded from the other side of the table, blowing away the steam rising from her coffee. Clara glanced momentarily around the kitchen for a replicator and instead found an old-fashioned coffee press and a bag of grounds nearby. “You had no idea what went on outside of the shipyards as a child, and I fear that you still have no idea what’s out there.”  
  
“Isn’t that the point? Nobody joins Starfleet to learn what they already know.”  
  
“Your father did.” Bonnie took another sip from her mug.  
  
“Papa joined Starfleet to help others reach beyond our solar system,” Shannon responded testily. “If he didn’t have a family here to keep him close to Earth, I bet he’d have gone out there and explored the stars up close. You know as well as I do that he’d have traded that telescope for a post on a starship in a heartbeat.”  
  
Her mother’s expression shifted. “But he didn’t, because he understood the importance of family!”  
  
With an obvious effort to ignore her mother’s outburst, she continued. “I have no one holding me back, and--”  
  
Bonnie cut her daughter off mid-sentence. “Oh, you have no family here? No one who’d miss you if you went out to the stars?”  
  
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” the young Shannon snapped, setting her lips in a tight line.  
  
“Then what did you mean?!” Shannon’s mother slammed a palm against the table, sending both coffee cups jumping, spilling hot brown splashes onto the wooden table. “Don’t you care about your father or me? What about Liam? You know how he lives for your visits!”  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ guilt me with my brother!” Shannon stood up, digging her fingers into the old, worn table’s surface. The two of them wore mirrored expressions, hot with temper and flushed bright red. “Liam would never let you do this to me if he were here in this room!”  
  
“Well, he’s not here, Shannon!” Bonnie dropped herself back down into her seat, defeated. “And it would break me if I lost you, too...”  
  
Whatever retort Shannon had been about to offer her mother, she swallowed, unclenching her fingers and sitting back down in her chair. She took a deep breath and picked up her coffee cup, cradling it in her hands as if trying to absorb every bit of comfort it had to offer. Both mother and daughter sat with their eyes closed, their attention turned inward. This wasn’t the first family row Clara had seen, but it was certainly the most personally attached she’d ever felt to one. For a moment, she felt a pang of longing.  
  
“You’re not going to lose me, mum,” Shannon finally said quietly as she looked up and across the table.  
  
Bonnie opened her eyes and met her daughter’s gaze. “If I let you go out there, how will I know you’ll ever come back?”  
  
“Trust,” Shannon replied with a small shrug. “I know it’s not much, but it’ll have to do for now. I can’t stay here forever... I won’t.”  
  
There was another break in their conversation as the two of them fidgeted mutely with the items on the table in front of them. Bonnie picked at the rim of her mug while Shannon traced the contours of a small bird-shaped pepper shaker. _This house is practically a museum,_ Clara thought, taking another moment to look around. It was as if she were standing in a completely different century.  
  
Shannon was the one to break the silence, once again. “I spoke to Liam the other day.”  
  
Her mother didn’t look up this time. “Oh?”  
  
“I told him I was thinking of joining Starfleet.”  
  
Bonnie hesitated as if she already knew where the conversation was headed. “And?”  
  
“And he said that I-- that _we_ shouldn’t let what happened to him hold any of us back. He told me that I should apply, even if it meant going against your wishes.”  
  
Shannon’s mother raised her eyes without lifting her head and assessed her daughter from beneath level brows. The look said more than enough.  
  
“I know, that’s a very Liam statement. I wouldn’t have done that…” Shannon paused for a moment. “At least, not without exhausting all of my other options first.” The young woman took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Mum, I know you worry about me getting hurt and ending up in the hospital like Liam, but I’ve given it a lot of thought. If I studied anthropology, I could travel the stars and likely never see an ounce of combat. I’d serve on a research vessel and hop from planet to planet learning about other civilizations. It’s the safest place I could be aside from right here in this kitchen.”  
  
“What about holidays and birthdays?” Bonnie offered lamely. “We’d never see you again if you served on a starship.”  
  
Shannon laughed warmly. “You know, we _can_ call each other. Just because all modern technology in this house is hidden behind wooden panels doesn’t mean that we can’t still talk while you and papa are in the city. Starfleet allows scheduled calls home, and I can always visit whenever the ship comes back into the solar system for maintenance. Plus, you and dad can come visit me on the ship, assuming I got permission. It wouldn’t be for long, but it’s not impossible.” She smiled and looked down at the table. “I’d even be able to see Liam. I could finally show him the stars again.”  
  
“You know he paints everything you describe to him,” her mother said after a moment.  
  
“I know.”  
  
The next break in their conversation lasted longer than any of the others had. The downtime broke Clara’s immersion in the memory long enough to have some thoughts of her own.  
  
 _How long have I been in here?_ She attempted to say the words aloud, but they echoed around her like an amplified version of a voice in a dream. _Three people, several memories each… Without knowing how time progresses in here relative to the real world, it could have been a few minutes or a few days._ Clara looked around the room. She’d read some studies on lucid dreaming over the years, but nothing about lucidity inside dreams that weren’t one’s own. The time on the clock on the wall was indistinct, and the photos in their frames were clear. _Commander O’Malley probably saw those photos hundreds of times, so that’s no surprise._  
  
Finally, in a small room immediately off of the kitchen, Clara found a mirror. When she looked into it, there was no reflection to be found. The discovery shouldn’t have surprised her, though, somehow, not seeing her own face staring back at her in the glass was deeply unsettling. The doctor backed out of the room and shut the door behind her before walking back to where she had been standing near the kitchen table. Clara glanced back at the bathroom door from the other side of the room. The door was open again.  
  
 _There must be a way to break this illusion. That’s all this is, a creation of the mind._  
  
“Alright,” Bonnie said, finally the first to dispel a long silence. “Since you already seem to have your mind made up, you can join Starfleet.”  
  
Shannon looked up, startled. “Really?”  
  
“Yes, but, I expect you to get top marks. Anything less and I’ll have you enrolled in a trade school before the year is out. Understood?”  
  
Before her mother could even finish listing her conditions, Shannon was out of her seat and across the table, wrapping her mother in what looked to be a suffocatingly excited embrace. “Thank you, mum! I promise I’ll make you proud.”  
  
Her mother smiled as the cottage began to fade and Clara felt herself being swept away once again by the currents of the subconscious.  
  
“You’d better.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Romulan vessel,” Raj began, “this is Raj Murali of the Federation Starship _Reliant_. We are here to recover a transport vessel that suffered a malfunction near the border. If you’ll stand down and allow us to tow the transport away, we’ll forget that your ship crossed into the Neutral Zone first and fired on a civilian ship.”  
  
This time Raj began gesturing commands to the cadets under his command before the opposing ship could reply. Sarah began programming a flight path and Rick, his face still swollen and puffy from the previous night’s fight, was typing away at the tactical station.  
  
 _“That would be unacceptable, Captain Murali. That vessel and its contents are the property of the Romulan Star Empire. Its occupants are criminals and subject to Romulan authority.”_  
  
Raj rolled his eyes and nodded at Skars, sitting in the back of the bridge. “To whom am I speaking?”  
  
 _“I am Commander Burek of the Romulan Star Navy. Your inquiry is irrelevant, Captain, as-”_  
  
“Commander Burek,” Raj interrupted, “I’m going to give you two options. The first is to allow me to recover this transport, after which we will both forget this entire regrettable incident and return to our respective sides of the Neutral Zone. The second is that I destroy the transport, your vessel, and the cloaked vessels you brought with you. When the Federation hears that Romulans destroyed a civilian transport, they’ll be able to pressure Romulus for even more concessions, and the Klingons will almost certainly come to our defense against you. It will be a war Romulus cannot win.”  
  
 _Raj is bluffing,_ Clara thought to herself absently. _But he knows the threat will give him time. What is he really planning?_  
  
“As a token of good faith, however, I will lower my shields and power down our weapons. This doesn’t need to result in violence.” He nodded at Rick, who lowered the _Reliant’s_ shields with a command. The phaser banks powered down as well, leaving the ship completely defenseless.  
  
“Romulan vessel lowering shields,” reported the Tellarite at the back of the bridge. “Transporters ready at your command.”  
  
“Go,” Raj snapped, and all three of the other cadets began working furiously at their stations. From her own seat, Clara watched as Rick entered targeting coordinates at three locations, one behind the drive section of the Romulan warbird and two others aft and to either side of their own ship, roughly where the other warbirds had decloaked in their previous encounter. The phasers and torpedo bays, however, remained powered down.  
  
“Transport away,” Skars reported, and Clara saw a small object appear behind the Romulan ship.  
  
“Romulans powering weapons!” Rick shouted. Without waiting for an order, Sarah keyed in her flight pattern and the _Reliant_ lurched into a dive. The mystery object exploded in a flash of white light, crippling the warbird, but the other two explosives were less accurate, forcing two additional Romulan ships to decloak, but not dealing any significant damage.  
  
“Do you have them, Skars?” Raj asked, his voice steady despite the fight that was beginning.  
  
“One moment... got them,” the Tellarite replied. The bridge shuddered as they dove away from the Romulans, and Rick shouted out the damage reports coming from each deck.  
  
“Direct hit! We’ve lost weapons control and life support, and decks Eight through Twelve are open to space!”  
  
“Take us out of here, Borelli!” Raj barked, though the command was likely unnecessary. Anywhere in Federation space will do!” Sarah typed in a heading and the ship jumped to warp. All four cadets looked at each other nervously.  
  
“Rick, did you get a read on the _Lusitania_?” Raj asked.  
  
“Yes sir, just as we jumped away. The ship was destroyed.”  
  
“Good. Final casualty report?”  
  
The taller man nodded. “Sickbay reports twenty-three dead, and another fourteen injured. We’ve lost life support, and with the damage we sustained, we only have another twelve hours of oxygen.”  
  
“Sarah, set a course for Starbase 718, maximum sustainable warp. If my math is correct, we should be able to make it with a few hours to spare.”  
  
“Aye, sir,” the blonde woman nodded. She typed in the command and the viewscreen and consoles went dark. All four cadets gathered at the center of the room as the stern-looking Vulcan instructor stepped forward. He took his time, making eye contact with each of them in turn before he spoke.  
  
“Cadet Murali, explain your approach to the situation.”  
  
Raj took one step forward and addressed the instructor. “Sir, the _Reliant_ encountered the transport _Lusitania_ damaged inside the Neutral Zone, threatened by a Romulan warbird in violation of the treaty. When the Romulan commander refused to release the transport, I ordered my crew to activate and beam three photon torpedoes in strategic positions to damage, destroy, or otherwise incapacitate the Romulans.”  
  
“Why did you lower your shields?” the Vulcan asked. “Surely you could have kept them raised and attacked if that was your objective.”  
  
Raj smiled. “Lowering the shields was necessary for two reasons. Transporters do not work with the shields up, so we needed to get the Romulans to lower theirs as well for maximum effectiveness in our attack. We suspected that there were cloaked vessels in the area, but to remain cloaked, they would have needed to lower their shields as well. Once we beamed the torpedoes away, we used the transporters again to beam the survivors of the _Lusitania_ aboard, and beamed one remaining torpedo aboard the transport.”  
  
The Vulcan’s eyebrow shot up at Raj’s last comment. “And why did you destroy the transport, Cadet?”  
  
“Sir, as you informed me in the briefing, and as I shared with my senior staff prior to this mission, Starfleet was using transport vessels, the _Lusitania_ included, to covertly supply Starbases near the Neutral Zone with weapons. As this would be considered an act of aggression by the Romulans, Starfleet’s primary order was to prevent the Romulans from learning of the shipments by any means necessary.”  
  
“Cadet Murali, I am sure that you remember that those instructions were meant to be known only by the ship’s commanding officer and that I specifically told you that informing your fellow cadets would result in a failing grade for this assignment.”  
  
Raj nodded. “I do, sir. I chose to tell them anyway.”  
  
“And what was your reason for doing so, Cadet?” His voice was still as stoic as ever, but Clara could see the satisfaction in the Vulcan instructor’s eyes. _This is what the whole test was about. He passed._  
  
“The four of you will all have this exercise marked as a failure in your records. I must, however, also inform you that a failing grade for disclosing information in this exam is considered ‘preferable’ by most Academy staff. I expect each of you to become valuable Starfleet Officers after your graduation this year. Congratulations, Cadets. You have completed your final practical exam at the Academy.”  
  
As the four cadets began to cheer, Clara saw a flicker of color out of the corner of her eye. It grew larger for a brief moment, nearly the size of a large man. Unwilling to let a chance at understanding the phenomenon get away or losing an opportunity to free herself, she darted forward, leaping into the flash of light before it disappeared. _This time, I’m moving on my own terms._


	24. Chapter 24

In contrast with the dim, indoor lighting of the Academy, Clara’s new environment was so bright, she wondered if the anomalous flash had left her blind to the world she’d been navigating. She looked down and realized that wherever she was, as blinding as it was, it was _somewhere_. Her hands, feet, and torso were all clearly visible, but instead of being transported to a world of someone else’s memory, Clara stood in a stark white void that seemed to extend outward into infinity in either direction, with no distinction between sky and ground.  
  
“Welcome, Clara Elise Dupont,” came the sound of a distorted, echoing voice. “We have been watching you with great interest.”  
  
Clara spun around, squinting into the nothingness as she attempted to find whoever had just addressed her. The lack of distinction between sky and ground coupled with the disorienting, seemingly-omnipresent voice that knew her full name made her feel dizzy.  
  
“Who are you?” the doctor called out as she shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples.  
  
A slim gray humanoid form winked into existence in front of her. A dozen thick black cords sprouted from its head where she would have expected hair, and a flat, nearly featureless face devoid of anything but a pair of wide black eyes. It had no nose, mouth, or other sensory organs that she could see, and it extended both of its six-fingered hands out toward her in a gesture of nonaggression.  
  
“We are a traveler,” it said, its voice clearer now. The sound echoed out from the being, though Clara could not determine where exactly it spoke from. “We have been adrift for many years before your arrival.”  
  
 _Adrift?_ Clara thought. _Of course! The probe. How could I have forgotten?_  
  
“Where do you come from?” she asked, feeling shaken by the realization that she’d become so immersed in the fantasy that reality had begun to slip from her grasp.  
  
The strange alien gestured outward with both arms as if to encompass everything around them. “We come from far away,” it said, “from a distant star system birthed by the creation of this galaxy. Our people were born, lived, and died many millennia before yours came to be.”  
  
 _But how…? No, the others._ “I have many questions, but first, I’d like to know about the other people, the ones whose memories I saw. Where are they? Are they unharmed?”  
  
The alien waved an arm in her direction and Babel’s three senior officers appeared beside her, each as bewildered as she herself had been just moments ago.  
  
Clara resisted the urge to give each of them a full examination on the spot, reminding herself that they were still being held within some sort of illusion or shared unconscious. She walked over to stand beside the rest of the crew, keeping a close eye on their alien host. “That was not an answer. Are they in any way hurt? Where are you keeping us?”  
  
“I’m fine, doctor,” Raj muttered as she reached him. “Commander, Lieutenant, did you just experience the same thing I did?”  
  
Shannon looked a few shades paler than usual. Clara could only assume that the disorientation had left her feeling a touch queasy. “If by that you mean did I just spend the last few hours riding around in your heads, then yes.”  
  
Although Commander O’Malley was responding to the Captain, her attention was set fully on her Chief of Security. The XO said nothing further, but the look in her eyes conveyed enough that Clara didn’t need to be inside her head to know what she must have been thinking. Lieutenant Barnes, by contrast, showed little indication of any emotion or malaise. Her expression was blank and her eyes had honed in on the middle distance, focusing intently on the nothingness that surrounded them all. Clara considered the events from Jessica’s memories, and the Chief of Security’s current lack of presence sparked a pang of sympathy. _The poor girl has worked so hard to cover it all up, but this probe opened her up like a book_.  
  
Raj frowned in sympathy as well at Jessica’s response before turning back to the gray-skinned alien. “Explain to me what just happened.”  
  
Turning all of its attention from Clara to Raj, the being spoke. “The probe that you encountered and took aboard your vessel gathers information using psionic technology. When compatible minds come into contact with us, we collect their memories in order to sample their culture, history, and experiences.”  
  
“You can't just steal someone's memories, no matter your intentions," Shannon said sharply. "We didn't consent to any of this!"  
  
The alien tilted its head in confusion. "We meant no harm and did none. Each of you will awake in perfect health. The process has already begun."  
  
  
***  
  
  
The PADD sitting atop the storage crate beside the young medical technician suddenly came to life as lights and charts began indicating changes from the status quo that the unconscious crew had been maintaining for the past several hours. Byron tossed aside the other screen he had been staring at during the interim, analyzing and compiling data during the downtime in which he was not to move from his post. The young man scrambled for his tricorder and hopped down from the stack of crates that had been serving as both his chair and his workstation.  
  
“Ensign, where do you think you’re going?” the gruff Tellarite asked, stepping in front of Byron and cutting him off on his way toward the probe. “Has your analysis been so futile that you decided to join our colleagues here in taking a nap?”  
  
“If these readings are right, they won’t be asleep much longer.” He turned the PADD around to show the Chief Engineer the fluctuating biometrics. “Their heart rates and neural patterns suggest that they’re waking up. If I had to guess, though neuroscience is hardly my strongest subject at the moment, they’re probably in that in-between state right now where external stimuli are beginning to bleed into their subconscious.”  
  
“How can you be sure it is safe to approach them? I’m unaffected, so I should be the one to go.”  
  
Byron frowned, considering his options. “No, no…” He scratched his head. “What about the energy readings you were monitoring? If the probe was what brought them under in the first place and they’re beginning to come out of it, shouldn’t whatever connection it was using to maintain its link to them be breaking down?”  
  
Naazt moved to check his own readings, frowning and tugging at his lengthy beard. “The field is changing, yes, but it hasn’t broken down completely. I still think you should remain safely behind the containment field.”  
  
As soon as the Tellarite had confirmed the field degradation, Byron started walking forward, ignoring the rest of the Chief’s statement and passing through the boundary of the containment field. The young medical technician took out his tricorder, and as he crouched down to begin his scan on the Captain, he felt a wave of dizziness roll over him.  
  
“Ensign! I told you to stay back!”  
  
“I’m fine. It’s just a little… I’m just a bit off-balance, that’s all. I can shake it off.” Byron gathered his readings without wasting any time, noticing that by the time his second scan had finished, his head felt noticeably clearer. “The connection is definitely growing weaker,” he announced as the tricorder chirped with the conclusion of the third scan.  
  
Even through the mental fog induced by the probe, the med-tech could feel the Tellarite’s disapproving gaze boring into his back. _Just one more scan_ , he thought to himself, kneeling down beside the dark-haired Chief of Security. As the medical tricorder began rolling off its series of clicks and beeps, her index finger twitched.  
  
Byron felt a surge of relief as the final tricorder scan told him everything he’d hoped. “Chief, they’re coming to!”  
  
  
***  
  
  
“My first officer is right,” Raj said sternly. “I appreciate your desire to learn more about us, but invading our private thoughts and memories is an invasion of privacy. You could simply have asked us first.”  
  
The alien looked confused once again. “We apologize for the offense. The notion of... privacy... is unfamiliar to us. Our psionic abilities make privacy nearly impossible, and in our culture, it was not considered desirable.”  
  
Her temper simmering down, Shannon raised an eyebrow at the alien’s comment. “Was?”  
  
“Yes,” it replied. “Our people developed powerful psionic abilities early in our evolution, as did many species of lesser intelligence on our world. As we grew and molded our culture, we used these abilities to develop much of our technology, though sadly most of it was used to wage wars amongst ourselves. Like your own people, we nearly destroyed ourselves before turning to a culture of peace and learning, but unlike yours, we never developed faster than light travel. When our world fell into ecological decline and our sun expanded, we had no ability to preserve our species.”  
  
“So you used this probe to preserve your culture,” Clara concluded.  
  
The alien nodded. “Exactly right. What you see before you is a representation of how we appeared in physical form. It is meant to guide and answer questions for those it communes with during its journey. In our civilized years, we took great interest in the likelihood of life outside our world, and the possibilities that came with it. We created this stellar messenger in the hope that in death, we might explore and learn in ways we could not in life.”  
  
“If your species is no longer,” Clara began, “I mean no offense by asking this, but what is the purpose of continuing to gather information? Who benefits from it besides those you encounter?”  
  
“What purpose does any life have?” it replied. “In the end, we all return to the stars. Death is inevitable. Even in death, however, memory lives on. We have shared in your experiences, and you may learn from ours. In your memories, we learned a great many things about your people. In them, we saw pain, struggle, and failure. We saw cruelty and anger, unjust hatred, and the fear of the unknown. But we also saw hope, understanding, love, and an overwhelming desire to improve. Your Federation is a deeply flawed place, Clara Elise Dupont, but it is one where evil and failure are only temporary, and hope drives you forward. We would share our data banks with you and trust you to use the information safely, on the condition that you allow us to continue in our journey. Much like your Starfleet, our continuing and final mission is to seek out new life and new civilizations and to go in death where we were unable to in life.”  
  
“I’m certain we would appreciate the insight that your civilization has to offer us,” Clara began, passing a glance to Captain Murali, “but I’m afraid that the terms of your agreement are not mine to concede. I am only the ship’s doctor.”  
  
“There aren’t exactly a lot of guidelines for negotiating with probes from extinct civilizations,” Raj replied. “It doesn’t feel right to agree to this without the approval of everyone who’s memories were scanned. Commander O’Malley, Lieutenant Barnes, what do the two of you have to say on the matter?”  
  
“I feel like the potential for gain far outweighs any personal embarrassment that may have come from this experience.” Commander O’Malley wore a faintly sad expression. “Besides, what’s done is done, right? I don’t see why we shouldn’t send them on their way and let the Federation have the unique opportunity of learning from another civilization’s mistakes.”  
  
Shannon’s attention turned to Jessica, who had yet to weigh in on the experience at all. “Although I have little at stake here, I have a feeling that some of us may feel a bit differently and ought to have a say in the matter.”  
  
Jessica, who had remained silent since being brought to this strange void in between reality and their memories, looked up hesitantly to meet Shannon’s eyes. “Commander, there’s a lot about my past I don’t share with anyone because it hurts to remember who I used to be. I don’t expect you to be able to trust me anymore, and I don’t expect you to like me either, but I’m not going to let my failures get in the way of what this ship, this crew, and Starfleet needs. You already know the worst about me, so you may as well let it be of some use. Let’s let this probe keep going.”  
  
Commander O’Malley held the Chief of Security’s gaze for a moment before turning back to the Captain with her response. “I believe we’re all in agreement, sir.”  
  
“Well then,” Raj said as he looked at each of them in turn, “it seems we have some work to do.”  
  
  
***  
  
  
“Take another look at those readings, Chief,” Byron said as he turned around and hurried over to the doctor’s side as she let out an uncomfortable groan. “I think we’re clear to drop the containment field.”  
  
The Tellarite grumbled at the lack of certainty in Ensign Dansville’s comment but deactivated the field emitter. As the hum of the field around them abruptly ceased, the remaining sensation of disorientation dissipated as well. Doctor Dupont attempted to sit up and Byron offered her a hand, giving her a visual once-over as she came to.  
  
“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice. “You and the senior staff have been unconscious for almost an entire shift.”  
  
Behind him, Byron heard another grunt and turned to see the Captain attempting to sit up. He stepped around to help him upright as Naazt assisted the Chief of Security.  
  
“We should all be in perfect health, if only a little bit dizzy,” Clara responded, placing a hand to her head. “I would still appreciate a basic scan of each of us before we resume our duties.”  
  
“Ensign,” grumbled the First Officer as she sat up, looking rather green. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything for nausea, would you?”  
  
“Um,” Byron looked around hastily, “not on my person but I--”  
  
“That’s fine,” she interrupted him. “Naazt, any container will do.”  
  
Byron watched helplessly as the Commander snatched a small box from the engineer’s hands and proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach into it. When she came up for air, the med-tech turned back to Clara. “I thought you said you would all be fine.”  
  
“Other than a few mild side effects, yes.” With some assistance, she got to her feet. “The scans are nothing more than a bit of insurance to back the word we were given.”  
  
“Whose word?” Naazt interjected, raising an incredulous eyebrow.  
  
“It’s a long story, Chief,” the Captain answered. “For now, get a team ready for a data transfer. I expect the probe will make itself available to you shortly.”  
  
As if prompted by Raj’s comment, a small panel revealed itself along the side of the probe’s hull, exposing a series of small ports for connectors that didn’t match anything in Starfleet records. The Chief Engineer hesitated for only a moment before his curiosity got the better of him and he rushed over to the panel, already barking orders to a team of bewildered technicians.  
  
Commander O’Malley finally began to collect herself and stood back up as Byron hurried back over to the stack of cargo crates where he’d spent his shift. The few items Doctor Dupont had brought into the cargo bay with her lay neatly stacked on top of the second PADD. He gathered her belongings and brought them back over to the group, presenting them with an unmistakable air of relief.  
  
“Would you care to do the honors of helping me run one final set of scans on the senior staff today?”  
  
Clara’s gracefully lined and stoic expression gave way to a small grin as she took the devices from her protege. “I would be delighted.”


	25. Chapter 25

_Captain’s Log, Stardate 48759.2: My Chief Engineer has been largely successful at retrieving data from the alien probe, now that it has opened itself to us. We’ll be transmitting a copy to Starfleet through the subspace buoys we’ve left behind on our journey, but I suspect my crew will all want the opportunity to dig through the data themselves. After all, it isn’t often that you stumble across the archived records of a civilization that’s been gone for over a million years.  
  
We’ve repaired the probe’s engines, which we now know for certain were created only two hundred years ago by the recipients of an earlier encounter with the probe. In the interest of protecting the privacy of future travelers, we’ve also rigged the probe to transmit a standard warning message, explaining the nature of the probe and its mission. I can only hope that the next ship it encounters is as forward-thinking as the Federation and doesn’t put an end to its journey. I suppose I should be optimistic, though, given how long it has been traveling and the risks it has taken so far.  
  
My more immediate concern is for my senior officers. Shannon and Jessica both had some very personal memories exposed to their peers and to me. My hope is that it will make us all closer with time, but Jessica in particular has been withdrawn and quiet since our recovery. Given the unique circumstances surrounding her history, her response is understandable, but I hope that in time she’ll be able to move on from all of this._  
  
The door chime sounded, prompting Raj to pause his log. “Come,” he barked loudly from his chair, clearing the clutter from the center of his desk. The ship’s Chief Medical Officer entered the ready room and took a seat in front of him.  
  
“Doctor Dupont, it’s good to see you. How are you feeling?”  
  
“Better than your First Officer, I’m glad to say. I finally cleared her to ease back into a normal diet after her rough return to consciousness. She spent the remainder of the day yesterday in her quarters under the influence of a sedative and antiemetic. I told her to take today slowly, but something tells me she has other plans in mind.” The doctor appeared to give the arms of the chair a gentle squeeze. It seemed Raj wasn’t the only one feeling a little skeptical of the reality surrounding him. “What about you? How do you feel about everything that happened?”  
  
Raj ran a hand through his beard and stared out the viewport into the blackness of space. “Honestly, doctor? I don’t know how to feel. As a Starfleet captain, I should be thrilled. We made contact with a civilization that’s been gone since before the Federation was a distant dream, and we learned more than most researchers and archeologists will learn in a lifetime. Instead, I find myself revisiting the memories of two people whose privacy I have no right to intrude on and wondering if one of them will ever feel comfortable around her two immediate superior officers again.”  
  
“I’m sure it will pass with time. Commander O’Malley certainly doesn’t go out of her way to talk about her family, but her medical issues are documented in Starfleet’s records.” Clara sighed. “As for Jessica, her past is unique, and I can understand why she would rather keep it a secret. However, only the four of us experienced those memories, and I believe we are all in agreement that they need not be shared. We are all adults who have imperfect pasts. We have all done or not done something we regret, but just as we have learned to move on from our personal mistakes, those who have shared our secrets must learn to do the same.”  
  
“That’s exactly why I’d kept the Lieutenant’s record to myself until now,” he replied, nodding in agreement. “I do feel obliged to comment, though, that it’s easier for someone to say that if she didn’t have her own memories exposed.”  
  
The doctor shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, I have been thinking about that quite a lot since we came to. I’m not certain why I was chosen as an observer and not a contributor, but I worry it may have cost me the trust of the senior staff. Having your past exposed to others without your consent or control while knowing that one person saw all and gave none would be enough to make anyone feel wary of someone in my position.”  
  
Raj leaned forward and softened his voice. “Clara, wasn’t it you who told me I need to learn to be more trusting of my crew? I’ve gone over your report and everyone else’s, and I think the simple fact is that you were pulled into the effect of the probe late enough to avoid being probed yourself, and there’s nothing more to it. And besides, if there’s anyone on the ship we should all feel comfortable with knowing our own history, it’s probably the ship’s doctor.”  
  
“Just because everyone _should_ trust their doctor doesn’t mean that everyone does. I encourage honesty and full disclosure from my patients, but it’s still ultimately up to them what they share with me. No matter the circumstances, this all feels very uncomfortable, but I hope that we can all move past it.” The doctor shifted again and sighed. “I suppose you’re right though. We’re to be out here together for quite some time, and eventually, even the most private of people will have to reveal something of who they are. Perhaps open dialogue is the kind of thing we need to focus on encouraging.”  
  
“Clara, something’s bothering you, and it’s not just what you saw the other day. Are you alright?”  
  
The poise and confidence which Raj had come to associate with his Chief Medical Officer faltered. For a moment, Clara Dupont seemed far older and more tired than he knew she was. When she spoke, her voice came from somewhere far away from _Babel_ ’s ready room.  
  
“I’ve had more time than I’d like to think about my own past since we woke from the probe’s influence. Your pasts may not be perfect, but all three of you pursued your desires when presented with the opportunities.” Clara’s presence in the room felt so small and unfamiliar to Raj as she let out a quiet exhale. “I can’t say the same for myself, and though I shared nothing with you, I felt more than just what happened in those memories.”  
  
“‘Living in dreams of yesterday, we find ourselves still dreaming of impossible future conquests.’” Raj sat back in his chair and looked up toward the ceiling wistfully.  
  
“I’m sorry?” Clara asked, confused.  
  
“Charles Lindbergh. An American twentieth-century pilot who made the first solo transatlantic flight, from New York to Paris. Not much of an accomplishment today, but it was historic at the time. I’ve always liked the quote, though, like all things aviation, it was introduced to me by Sarah Borelli at the Academy. I believe you remember her from my own memories. You might have your regrets, Clara, but you’re certainly not the only one. We all made mistakes, some things we did, and some we wish we had. The important thing is that we keep looking forward. If we don’t, the past will devour us.”


	26. Chapter 26

Shannon walked down the corridors of Deck Eleven, still feeling a bit queasy from the previous day. The medications Doctor Dupont had given her had undoubtedly helped, but between the knock on the head and her travels through the memories of her crewmembers, her gratitude for solid ground was unprecedented. Despite having been asleep for a majority of the past 24 hours, she’d still had more than enough time to obsess over the events she’d experienced and the memories she knew the others had seen.  
  
 _Without Mum’s constant reminders, I’d almost been able to forget about my condition. I guess that plan to stay in touch didn’t last. I do owe Liam a call, though. It’s been over a month._  
  
Her head reeled, swinging from resentment toward herself to frustration with the doctor to what she could only summarize as impassioned confusion toward Jessica. It seemed incredible that someone with a documented history as an active terrorist could have ended up as the Chief of Security on a Federation vessel. Prior to their encounter with the probe, Shannon had thought her promotion to be a stretch, but the decision seemed to make sense in light of Jessica’s record. That mess of information had contributed more to her ongoing headache than anything else she’d been faced with in the past day.  
  
As the First Officer approached the gymnasium, she drew in a deep breath and sighed. No matter what her problem, it had always been faster and easier for her to attempt to work through it through exercise, rather than sitting idly by and hoping to figure it out while drinking coffee. The doors slid open and Shannon stepped into the bright, full-spectrum lighting of the workout area. Against the far wall, Lieutenant Barnes was doubled over in a dynamic stretch. She did not look up.  
  
“Are you sure you want to do this so soon after everything?” Shannon called out as she began moving through her own set of warmups. _What better time than now, I guess. Either we’ll sort this out or she’ll paralyze me_. The redhead felt her chest seize up with anxiety for a fleeting second before she forced out a long exhale through tightened lips. _That’s as good a reason as any not to lose focus._  
  
The younger woman finally looked up from her stretch and removed a pair of earbuds, setting them aside next to her small workout bag. She turned around and jumped backward in surprise when she saw Shannon standing there.  
  
“Sorry Commander, I didn’t hear you come in.”  
  
Shannon raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. “That’s okay, Jess. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She rummaged through her bag for her hand wraps and began putting them on as she stretched, keeping an inconspicuous eye on her Chief of Security as she did. _Someone’s jumpy…_  
  
“You know, that wasn’t an answer,” the redhead said again, switching stretches and starting to wrap her other hand. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We could go grab an early lunch or something,” _like normal people_ , she finished the sentence in her mind.  
  
“I haven’t been hungry since before we found the probe,” Jessica replied, wrapping her own hands and walking toward the mat. “Besides, I robbed you of a real match last time. I won’t be so careless this time.”  
  
The constricting pang of anxious pain gripped Shannon’s chest again, and she did her best to pass it off as a breathing exercise, hoping the other woman wouldn’t notice. _I have to find another focus before I get on the mat. If all I can think about is a worst-case scenario, the match might as well be over already._  
  
Led by another series of deep, level breaths, Shannon let her attention focus on her competition. They had fought before, so they both had a better sense of one another’s fighting styles. Both of them were likely on shaky footing at the moment. Jessica knew of Shannon’s weakness, but it didn’t seem to give the woman much confidence. Her posture was off, and she carried herself in a way that made her look as if she might flee at any second. That realization was enough to send the redhead’s thoughts in a completely different direction.  
  
 _She’s afraid of me_ , Shannon thought in a moment of disbelief. _All this time, she’d been hiding behind her anonymity. Now that it’s gone, the playing field is totally different._  
  
Commander O’Malley stepped up onto the mat with a renewed sense of confidence. “Well, now that everything's out in the open, we can spend less time sidestepping conversation and more time sidestepping punches. Are you ready?”  
  
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jessica replied. She tapped her fist to Shannon’s and retreated back toward the far end of the mat, her lean build coiled like a spring, ready to strike. She was clearly shaken, but her long history of combat training, even prior to her Starfleet training, still made her dangerous.  
  
Shannon threw the first flurry of punches, a series of quick jabs to start the match. Each one was easily parried, but she could tell that her partner was preoccupied. The blocks that had been so fluid before were now aggressive and choppy. When the return punches came, her attacking style was also noticeably different from before. The two of them passed the first few rounds of blows and parries in silence before Shannon took a step back and threw her first kick.  
  
“We’re not going to resolve anything if we don’t start talking,” she offered, her crimson ponytail swinging in front of her face from the momentum of her movement. “Let’s start with the obvious: You hate me.”  
  
The dark-haired woman parried the kick more fluidly, then lashed out with a kick of her own that clipped Shannon in the thigh as she dodged a half-second too slowly. The First Officer spun to deflect the imminent follow-up attack, but Jessica’s punches came too slowly, each one hesitant and exaggerated.  
  
“I don’t hate you,” the younger woman said. “You’re respected by your peers, trusted unconditionally by the crew, and in a command role I’ve spent my entire career fighting for without any of the training. How could I hate you when you’re everything I’ve ever wished I could be?”  
  
“It’s not as if I asked for this,” the redhead retorted with a feigned jab that misdirected her dark-haired partner, leading her to lean into the follow-up punch that connected solidly with her right shoulder. “I was respected. I was an expert in my field. I was trusted unconditionally by those I worked with. Now I’m saddled with a responsibility I never would have agreed to under different circumstances, and I’m left questioning whether or not my Chief of Security is contemplating mutiny at any given moment.” Shannon stepped out of the way of a careless but fast-moving fist. “It’s a real enviable position, but at least I never dropped a building on anyone, so I suppose I have that in my favor.”  
  
Jessica snarled as she launched into a flurry of punches. Shannon backed away, blocking or dodging most of the strikes, but when she shifted forward to counter the younger woman’s assault, Jessica had already jumped back into a kick that took the XO in the stomach, laying her flat on her back, gasping for air.  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ use that against me now, after everything I’ve done!” Jessica screamed, sweat dripping down her body. She waited, her fists clenched and chest rising and falling in deep breaths as Shannon recovered. “I’ve dedicated my entire life to Starfleet for ten years now! For every vacation, every visit home to your loving, _perfect_ family, every week of leave you’ve taken in your long career as a scientist, I’ve worked extra shifts, fought criminals, and bled to prove myself to people who don’t give a damn about me! I’ve gone through more hell to get here than you ever will, so don’t you _dare_ accuse _me_ of betraying you.”  
  
Upon impact with the mat, Shannon’s lip split open on her tooth, tainting her mouth with the metallic taste of blood. She gritted her teeth and hauled herself back to her feet, resuming her stance, her front teeth tinted red from the fresh wound. “You don’t know anything about my ‘perfect’ family. What you saw in there only scratched the surface.” She threw a series of hasty, aggressive punches aimed high at the young woman’s shoulders, conveniently close to her head. “It’s easy to work hard and strive for things in life when the only people who ever loved you are dead.”  
  
The Commander walked her Chief of Security two steps back on the mat before sweeping at her knees, taking advantage of the woman’s slight backward lean and giving a shove with her elbow to help the woman to the ground. Shannon stood, panting as she wiped sweaty wisps of hair out of her face, glaring down at her opponent.  
  
“My family may still be alive to love me, but all _two_ of those ‘vacations’ back to Earth have been to make sure my brother remembered that someone in the family didn’t already see him as having one foot in the grave.” Shannon dropped down and drove a fist into the mat beside Jessica’s left ear. “Unlike you, I know where I stand in life. I may not like it, but at least I don’t try to hide it or turn tail and run when things get inconvenient for me.”  
  
Withdrawing her fist, the First Officer got back to her feet and extended a hand down to the woman on the mat. “Get up. Coward.”  
  
Jessica hooked her legs around Shannon’s and twisted, bringing the other woman down on top of her. Keeping the hold, she rotated at the hip until she was above the redhead and pinned Shannon’s hands to the mat by the wrists.  
  
“Do you know how much I would give to have my parents back? To have a brother to talk to, even if it meant giving up my time, my career? How fucking entitled do you have to be to think having a difficult family is anything like growing up with nothing.” Shannon struggled to break her grasp, but Jessica brought her knee up to just underneath her ribcage, slowly driving the air from her lungs. “I’m sorry your healthy, living mother is difficult. I’m sorry you don’t get to see the father who loved you and encouraged you because you’re too far away, being the executive officer of a ship you didn’t even have to ask for. My mother died in my arms, and the closest thing I had to a father for most of my life is doing life in prison for trying to murder thousands of innocent people.”  
  
Jessica released her hold on Shannon and backed away to the center of the mat. “It might take my whole life to make sense of the mess I’ve been handed, but don’t ever call me a coward again.”  
  
Shannon spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and as she rolled back up to her feet, the fatigue of the fight tugged at her limbs. She bit down on her tongue, the sensation bringing her mind and body back to focus.  
  
“You’re right,” the redhead wiped the corner of her mouth on her hand wraps. “Coward isn’t the right word for you. What I should have said was ‘unstable.’”  
  
The First Officer lunged at her subordinate, stepping on her foot before delivering a punch to the woman’s arm, swinging wide of the torso where she’d meant to hit. Stamina wasn’t on her side, but if Jessica was so intent on making this about Shannon’s undeserved authority, then so be it. _You’re pissed off that I’m your boss, fine. We’ll play by my rules_. She figured it might not get her far in the long run, but throwing a couple of dirty shots could be just the advantage she needed to get her momentum back.  
  
“So, I’m entitled, you’re an unstable train wreck, but at the end of the day, we still have to work together.” Shannon brought her elbow back against Jessica’s ribcage as she stepped backward toward the center of the mat, forcing her opponent to cross the space and come to her. “You have to take orders from me and I have to believe you’re not going to turn this into a Klingon chain of command. It’s shit for both of us. That’s hardly a solution, and that is what we came here to find, isn’t it?”  
  
Shannon moved further forward, her muscles screaming at her for pushing past her limits, and she threw another hard, uncontrolled punch. _This is it, Jess. Prove to me I can trust you._ The dark-haired woman caught her wrist, twisted Shannon around... and set her down gently on the mat.  
  
“Commander, I think we’ve both gone far enough for today,” she said, panting heavily. Jessica walked off the edge of the mat and grabbed a towel from the rack, hopelessly trying to dry off the sweat that had her dripping from head to toe. “I’m sorry for our last fight, and for this one. I said things I shouldn’t have, and I was way out of line.”  
  
“Don’t apologize,” Shannon said with a feeble smile as she also stepped off the mat and began toweling off. “The first match was a fluke and this one was hardly a clean spar. I wanted to know I could trust you, and as much as it was unprofessional of me to provoke you like that, I needed to be absolutely sure that what happened last time wouldn’t happen again, no matter what.”  
  
Jessica’s features relaxed noticeably, and Shannon could see the relief on her face. “Don’t worry about it, then, Commander. I did a three-month rotation with a Klingon Defense Force crew a few years back. I don’t take offense at a good shouting match, even if blood gets drawn.” The younger woman tossed her towel in the bin, still covered in a layer of sweat but no longer dripping. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done a fine job as First Officer on _Babel_. I may have a problem with Starfleet Command for keeping me from the position I think I deserve, but I don’t hate you personally. It might take a while for us to really be friends, Shannon, but I do hope we get there someday.”  
  
“I don’t doubt that we will, Jess,” the redhead said as she picked up her bag, still wearing the towel around her shoulders. “I just hope that things don’t get boring once we do.”  
  
  


**The adventures of the _USS Babel_ will continue...**


End file.
